Pirates of the Caribbean: Redemption's Pride
by RheaLee
Summary: A year after Will and Elizabeth are wed, the story continues.
1. Chapter One

No one gave a second thought to the ship as it approached the port. It was a respected ship, pirated by a respected man and run by a respected crew. For seven years the _Redemption_ had quietly sailed the black waters. Now, with the acquisition of a certain shipmate, she was ready to secure her captain's proper fate.

* * * * *

Will was still the man he had been a year earlier, in the times when he was just a blacksmith dreaming of the governor's daughter. Now he was married to her, putting up with her father's preparations for a celebration of their first wedding anniversary. Still Will Turner worked at the forge, finally getting credit for the swords he so lovingly crafted.

Still Will Turner looked to the sea, having to smile to himself every time Commodore Norrington came back empty-handed form his latest attempt to capture Captain Jack Sparrow.

As Elizabeth had said, he was a pirate, not a blacksmith. Longing for the sea was in his blood, in his very veins. 

Still, he suppressed it; the son-in-law of the governor could not be given to such fantastical whims.

"I thought you were working today." Elizabeth smiled, resplendent in her white gown as she came down the path and linked her arm through her husband's.  
  


"Maybe I was." He paused a moment to kiss her sweetly before the sea once again caught his gaze, turquoise and glimmering in the gaps between the palm trees. "I'm afraid my mind wasn't on it."

Wincing slightly, Elizabeth rested her head on his shoulder, eyes following the tracks of his gaze. "I know what you mean. It all seems so stupid now: a grand party, just to celebrate a year of wedded bliss."  
  


That made Will laugh. "Aye, and it was, you have to admit," he said with a grin, kissing the tip of her nose. "Blissful."

She nodded, grinning. "No pirates, no mishaps, no adventure . . ."  
  


Will had to turn away to keep her from seeing the look in his eyes, the one that would betray the way his insides squirmed at the thought. "Yes," he agreed, voice light. "No adventure."  
  


After a moment he felt Elizabeth slide an arm around his waist. "Admit it, William Turner: you loved it as much as Jack Sparrow."  
  


He turned, wondering exactly how to word it. "Elizabeth, I'm not a pirate," he protested. "No matter what you think, I'll always –"  
  


"Long for the ocean and the life you glimpsed last summer?" She raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I've let you go this long without speaking of it, and now I'm not entirely sure that was the right thing."

"Elizabeth . . ." Will sighed, running a finger gently along her cheek. "Of course I loved it. It brought us together."

"But you're not saying you wouldn't go back."

He turned away again, dark eyes raking the horizon, trying to imagine a way out of this conversation. Because he _would_ go back, if life were that simple. If he had no cares, no worries, no bonds holding him to this island, he might have already set off to find the _Black Pearl_ and her . . . interesting . . . captain. But he had set aside those freedoms the day Jack Sparrow had gone free: the day he and Elizabeth vowed to wed.  
  


"I can see your thoughts," Elizabeth said softly, running her pale fingers through his thick hair. "I've been seeing them for quite some time. I know you ask eagerly for news upon the commodore's return, and I know why."  
  


"Elizabeth, please." He firmly took both her hands in his own. "Don't speak of it. That life is not an option; it hasn't been, not for a long time. And it does no good to dream." Giving her a quick peck on the cheek, Will turned and strode back up to the house, leaving Elizabeth alone to keep watch over the harbor.

* * * * *

"Are you sure this is the place?"

"Yes, I told you." A simpering smile. "Don't you trust me, cap'n?" This last word was stressed into a semblance of a sneer.

"You know full well the answer to that question." But the captain looked thoughtfully out of his cabin at the little slice of the island he could see. "We must act soon."

"Yes, sir."

"And _this_ time, the plan is not up to you."

* * * * *

Elizabeth tried to be patient as she tried on her new gown for the third final fitting in a row. Granted, it looked especially marvelous on her; the deep red material was generously cut into a full skirt and tapered into a waist formed – yes, despite her protests – by a corset laced tightly. Still, she had the distinct impression that her father was not listening to her. At the moment the governor was waiting just on the other side of the screen with the tailor. "Are you almost ready, my dear?" he called in a voice that was sugary sweet.  
  


She sighed, breath intake inhibited by the horrendous garment. "Father, I was trying to have a serious conversation with you," she said, making one last adjustment to the sleeves on the dress before stepping into view. "It's about Will, Father; and I'm worried."

"Yes, yes, that's nice." The governor was preoccupied, taking his daughter's hand and assisting her up on a short stool so the tailor could go about pinning the hemline. "You look marvelous; you needn't worry about that."  
  


She took another, steadying breath, trying to force her lungs to expand. Will did not particularly care for her in corsets any more than she did. Well, he liked her in a lot less, and – Elizabeth stopped, trying to force the blush from her cheeks. "That's not what I meant," she delicately corrected, though it was not entirely clear whether she was talking to herself or her father. Indeed, she was rather reluctant to bring this up with her father, but there was no one else to whom she could turn. "It's not about how I look. This is about Will."  
  


"Yes, yes, I'm sure William will look fine, as well," her father answered. "Now, go and change out of that so he can get it hemmed."  
  


Elizabeth sighed, taking his hand again to step down and retreat again behind the screen. Ever since the wedding – no. Ever since the day Jack Sparrow was supposed to hang – but it had been longer than that, too, had it not?

She sighed freely as the corset came off. Since whenever, for a long time now she had been finding it hard to fit in with people such as her father and the commodore. He – Commodore Norrington – had found himself a bride, a stunning young creature named Cynthia, so it was obvious there were no hard feelings about her choosing Will. And her father had even admitted that, although he had first had his doubts, William Turner was a fine, upstanding young man with a bright future and a good head on his shoulders, and what more could anyone want?

Plenty, Elizabeth thought, slipping back into her light blue day gown. Here she was: married to a fine, upstanding young man with a bright future and a good head on his shoulders – and who was handsome, to boot – the governor's daughter, living in a fine mansion atop a hill of one of the finest islands in the whole Caribbean. She should be happy, perfectly content. She should have her mind on some square of embroidery, or perhaps on the latest gossip in the town, or even on preparations for the children she and Will would have someday. She should not be feeling the way she was now: empty and ignored.  
  


With yet another sigh – she seemed to be doing that a lot lately – Elizabeth went to the window and threw open the shutters, looking down on the harbor. A new ship had come in, one the commodore had been discussing just the other night during a long and boring dinner. The _Redemption_, according to Norrington, was an English ship, owned and captained by an upstanding English gentleman, in the Caribbean for a spot of pleasure.

The young woman smiled to herself, reaching for her silver-plated brush and starting to work it through her sun-streaked brown curls. For a moment it was though she felt the wooden deck swaying beneath her feet and heard the crack of the sails above her head. The smell of the sea, already the background of her daily life, assaulted her nostrils with almost vicious force.  
  


Just as suddenly she became aware of the curtains fluttering in the breeze and the worn rug on the floor. She had grown up with these things. They were like her childhood friends, comfort objects that informed her that yes, she was home.  
  


Sighing, Elizabeth turned away form the window, setting down the brush. There was an embroidered handkerchief, half finished, that was calling her name, and Will would not be home for at least an hour. Threading a needle, she sat down to wait.

* * * * *  
  


The captain of the _Redemption_ was indeed English by birth, though, since the age of ten, he had lived with a boat beneath his feet. There was a short time when a woman had tried to anchor him to shore, though she had not succeeded for long before he was off again.  
Circumstances being what they were, the captain had recently returned to England for a few years, though his heart – if he had one, which caused much debate amongst the crew – was in the Caribbean, and he had to return.  
  


It was luck, really, that had won him the gamble that led him to this island. And, with a bit more luck, his travels would not be in vain.  
A small smile formed itself inside the captain's beard, one that did not reach far enough to put a sparkle in his eyes. _Soon,_ he thought, gazing into the town as dusk fell. _Very soon._

* * * * *

Jack Sparrow was in his worst mood in a while, and it was in no way alleviated by the bottle of rum in his hand.

His companion snorted. "It could be worse."  
  


The pirate lolled his head to the side and strained his eyes to look up. "Oh?" he asked, not really interested, missing his lips and pouring some of the horrid stuff down his chin.

"Yes. We don't normally take prisoners."

"Heh." Slightly slumped, with his legs sprawled out in front of him, there was none of the cocky swagger evident in his form now. "I'm no' a prisoner. I'm yer firs' mate." The fact that his voice was slurred attested to how much the man had already drunk.

"Same thing. Dead men don't eat our food."  
  


He gave a wet laugh, spraying out half a mouthful and causing his companion to back up a step. "Sometimes th' live ones don't eat none, either," he said, chuckling hoarsely at his own joke.

This caused his companion to crouch down to his level, trying to catch his eye, but the pirate was half keeled over and at an awkward angle. "Mr. Sparrow, you have to talk sometime."

His eyes narrowed. "Is tha' a threat?"  
  


"From me?" A small smile. "From the likes of me, Mr. Sparrow, it is but a warning. Though, if I were you, I would not give those in power the reason to make it such." Standing, his companion smiled. "Think on that."  
  


So Jack took another drink, slid the rest of the way down the wall, and immediately started to snore.

* * * * *

Will was not working with swords. He was doing horseshoes, which gave him an excuse to swing a hammer without much regard to detail. And today, Will really needed to swing the hammer.

He thought he had been handling it well: the haunting dreams of the open ocean, the moments when he was sure he was hearing laughter and a familiar voice begging him not to do something stupid, the times when he looked out to the water and was lost in a sort of longing even he himself could not - or would not - name.

If not for Elizabeth, Will thought, he might even have jumped the wall after Jack Sparrow the year before when the pirate made his escape. But it all centered on Elizabeth. His life had centered on her since the time he was rescued, merely a boy and she just a girl. But they had grown up, and she had grown more beautiful. He had not fallen in love; it was more of a realization that, since the first day they met, he had been in love, forever and completely.  
  


Now another such realization was trying to make itself known and he was once again forcing it back. By speaking of Elizabeth as "Miss Swann" he had distanced himself from her in speech and action, if not thought. Now he was trying it again.

"Captain Jack Sparrow" was slowly being forced into "that pirate," a term that meant neither bonds nor debt of life. "Our adventure last summer" was resisting the title of "the time Elizabeth was captured by pirates and I foolishly hired a band of those cutthroats myself to go and get her back." Her engagement to Commodore Norrington, however, was easily labeled as "a last and desperate bid for my life, by which she meant nothing." Simple. And the rest of it should have been just as smile.

Will sighed, stoking the fire and watching the coals glow even brighter, working their way toward white. Things had changed since then. The forge was now his, as Mr. Smith had decided to retire, all the better to drink himself to death. Will was married, acting as both a husband and a son-in- law when he had little practice of being a son.  
  


Thoughts like those, too, were unwanted. Words like "son" made Will think of his father. By all accounts "Bootstrap" Bill would have been alive underwater for ten years, chained and bound, as he, too, had been cursed. Still - and Will battled himself at least once a month on this - by lifting the curse and saving the others, he had condemned his father to drowning.  
  


He picked up the hammer again, trying to clear his mind of everything but the work before him.

* * * *

Captain Bill Torrington stood n the deck of his ship as the Redemption floated peacefully in the harbor. He had been ashore earlier to speak with the governor, though he knew almost immediately that the dinner invitation, initially accepted, would have to in some way be declined. This could have an effect on the plan as a whole, but Torrington was rather sure that he could courteously allow the dinner to be pushed back until after the celebration of the governor's daughter's marriage, and that would give him time aplenty.  
  


Peg leg making a hollow sound as he walked, the captain retreated into his cabin to plan.


	2. Chapter Two

The man with the whip laughed evilly, dropping the implement of torture and leaving the room. Jack hung limply by his hands, sweat pouring off him even as blood ran down his back. He was alone. He was never alone for long.  
  


The door behind him opened with a squeak of hinges and soft footfalls assured him that there was no need to panic. An echoing click told him the door locked and from experience he knew the key hung from a chain around her neck. Also from experience he knew she had some very unconventional places for stashing objects such as knives. There would be no use in taking the key, anyway; the men would be between him and the exit.

"Nice of you to join me, love," he grunted, trying to take his weight on his feet, but his legs were too weak to support him.

"If you would only tell them something, we wouldn't have to keep meeting like this," she returned curtly.

Jack almost managed a remnant of his dashing grin, picturing her. Mina. An unlikely allay in this hell in which he found himself. She dressed in men's clothes, shirts stitched together in front to preserve her dignity and pants old and patched. Once in a while she wore boots, though more often than not Mina went barefoot. Her hair was chopped short, an auburn crown that would have been almost laughable had it not been for the flashing look in her green eyes.  
  


He winced as the rope holding his bound hands above his head gave a shudder. "Just slash through that mess with one of those lovely knives; you've rope enough."  
  


"You didn't seem to think them lovely when they were pressed against your neck." Mina smiled slyly, though she was still out of sight, working away at the mess of what one of the men had called a knot.

"Because they weren't, then." The rope came loose in a rush, pulling through the iron loop anchored in the ceiling, and Jack – unprepared – started to stagger.  
  


Mina caught him before he fell, gently lowering him to a sitting position on the floor and looking appraisingly at both his back and the red lines it had left on her shirt. "Charming, Jack, really," she said dryly, kneeling down for a closer inspection. The old lines had faded to a paler shade, now interlaced with the new wounds. "You might at least tell them something, even if it's not the truth."

"They'd find me out, sure as anything," he grunted, opting to lie on his stomach despite the fact that the floor was something less than sparkling. "And then it'd be worse."

Mina pursed her lips, reaching for the bucket of drinking water and scraps of semi-clean cloth she had brought with her, dunking them and laying them across the broken flesh. "You've another problem," she said grimly.  
  


"What, the idiot figured out the compass isn't worthless after all?" His eyes were closed, head pillowed on his arms, and it had been weeks since he had been anything resembling his usual self. "'Bout time; I was beginning to wonder, honestly."

"Jack." She put a hand on his shoulder, leaning around so that, when his eyes opened, he was looking at her. 

"We've not gone anywhere in a few days, haven't you noticed?"  
  


"My dear, he wasn't kind enough to provide my quarters with a window."  
  


She closed her eyes briefly. "If that's the way you want it, fine. You tell me nothing, and I'll return the favor."

Jack sighed, reaching out to grab her wrist. "Mina, wait. What is it? What fresh hell does that man have in store for me?"

"You'd rather a stale one?" She raised an eyebrow.  
  


"Good girl." The corners of his mouth lifted, though he himself was limp as a wet noodle. "Now, tell me: what does the bastard have planned?"  
  


Her smirk grew stale. "A dinner party."  
  


Jack blinked. "It's me ears, love. I thought you said –"  
  


"A dinner party. Yes, I did."

Jack swore.

* * * * *  
  


The governor was entirely beside himself. "Captain Torrington is the nicest captain in the Spanish Main, I'm sure," he said enthusiastically. "The Commodore and I had tea with him this afternoon. Delightful gentleman, really."

As he seemed to be expecting a response, Elizabeth smiled wanly. "Really."  
  


"Why, yes." Popping a forkful of food in his mouth, it seemed Governor Swann could barely wait to swallow before he continued. "The poor man's had more than his fairs share of pirates, I'll tell you that. And he's handled it all so wonderfully! Perhaps," the governor continued, turning to his son-in-law, "the two of you might speak about some of your – shall we say – misdealings?" The sparkle in his eye told them all that he had managed to forget all but the triumphant conclusion of the desperate search for Elizabeth – and subsequently Will – the year before.

Will looked intrigued, though inside he felt that such an event might possibly the worst case scenario for him. 

"Pray, how long are they staying, then?"

At this the governor looked smug. "He's sent forth an invitation for the two of you to dine with him aboard his ship tomorrow and spend the afternoon with him, as well. Hmmm?"

Elizabeth's eyes lit up, though she demurely patted her mouth with her napkin. "I think it would be lovely," she said conversationally sneaking a glance down the table at her husband, who looked rather dumbstruck. "Unless, Father, you would wish our help in preparing the festivities."

The governor did not catch Will's silent pleas that he urge them to stay, as the event was only five days in the future. Instead, he smiled lovingly at his daughter. "Now Elizabeth: I think the two of you deserve a little fun. 

After all, you've been working a lot lately," he said to Will. "I think it would be a nice change of pace."

Yes, and exactly the change of pace Will did not need right then, nor ever. Such a change – especially if temporary – might be more damaging than any torture the human mind would conceive.

"Oh, Will, let's," Elizabeth urged, a fresh sparkle to her eyes as she grabbed his hand. "Please. For me."  
  


Taking a deep breath – and wondering whether this would darn or relieve him – Will nodded.

The governor beamed. "Wonderful! I'll send a messenger down to the harbor immediately and let him know you'll both come."

* * * * *

Torrington was not his real last name. For most of his life he had used his real last name. That is, if he used a last name at all. Mostly he went by his first name, or any variant thereof. The captain could identify who was calling him by what name they used. It was rather useful in some ways, though inconvenient in others, especially if he had introduced himself as Billy Torrington and someone called from across the way using another, more recognizable name.

Confused? That is the way he wanted it.

The captain looked out over the harbor, at the dark water and the golden trails sent out by lights from open windows. _Somewhere,_ he thought, _my prize is waiting._ A smile curled his lips, mimicking the mustache he planned to grow again after this trick was over.

For a while, the captain had thought that such a situation would never arise. _Every half century;_ those were the words that had been spoken. After being on the Pearl, Billy was sure that he would not live long enough to meet the next mark, though the thought was by turns comforting and horrifying. The curse had been on his family – the Torrington family, if you will – for centuries. Every fifty years – or "half-century," if one went by the poetic verse of the real thing – the oldest member of the family would be set upon by a demon of sorts. 

Unless, of course, the curse was deflected to another member of the family.

Torrington intended to deflect it in a way that would also serve his own intents and purposes. So far, things had not been going well. Many of his former shipmates had been killed.

It was part of the curse, of course. The other curse: Only those who succeeded in breaking it knew where to find the island again. Torrington did not know how to find the island; he had spent the last year trying.

Now, though; he was close to cracking through, Torrington was sure. Just a few more hours. And what were hours, really, but minutes, and those minutes, seconds?

_Soon._ He repeated the mantra to himself, cold brown eyes raking the growing darkness. _Very soon, indeed._

* * * * *

Mina was stretched out in front of the doorway, feet propped up on the doorjamb, though she was not keeping an eye on him. Eight months assured her that she did not have to. At least, not when it was only the two of them. Jack was chained to a timber, anyway, and it was unlikely that he could escape in order to do anything.

"We need a plan," he mumbled through chapped lips. "A _plan_."

"And I'm sure one will come more easily if you only speak louder," Mina said irritably.

Levering himself up on an elbow, he glared at her sternly. "_A PLAN_!"

She made a face, turning her head to look at him. "I was being sarcastic, Jack. But then, you should've known that; you've been it often enough."

He closed his eyes, slumping back down to the floor. "Women."

"At least you admit I'm more than a girl." Mina smiled mischievously at that.

He smiled slightly. "You've grown up."

Mina snorted. "Last time I saw you, I was _ten_. I'm _glad_ you think I've grown up."

Jack almost laughed. "Yes, those were the days. Scabby knees and tangled curls . . ."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll thank you for that wonderful description of my childhood self, Jack Sparrow, and assure you that my memories of you are just as flattering."

"Mina, you're too kind." He doffed an imaginary hat. "Where is my chapeau, anyway? Has that loving father of yours gone and gotten it all greasy and louse-infested?"

"He's not worn it, if that's what you're asking." She swung her legs around to sit up. "His hat's bigger."

Jack scowled. "Oh-ho, now that's not fair! We all know who you like better between the two of us; let's not be lying, love."

"But telling the truth would break your weasely black heart!"

"I don' have a heart, love; 's why I became a pirate." The sparkle, all but gone from Jack's eyes, up and disappeared.

Her face fell. "Oh, Jack. I didn't mean it, not that way."

"I know," he replied gruffly, gaze fixed on the shadows thrown by the beams above him. "I know it, well and good. But that doesn't help."

Mina bit her lip. "You deserved better, anyway."

"Better? _Better?_" Jack was up on his elbow again, searching her out across the darkened room. "I deserved whoever I wanted to deserve!"

"Then you were wrong." There was a hopeful upward twitch to the corners of her mouth. "For once in your life." She got on her hands and knees and crawled close enough to gently squeeze his shoulder. "Jack?"

"Yes, love?" Expressionless, his eyes focused up at her.

She hesitated a moment before deciding that changing the topic completely _would_ bee a good idea. "I was thinking. Three of us might be able to pull something off."

He shrugged. "'s only one more. And not very good; fights fair, you know. Follows the rules and all."

"But still, one more . . ."

He shrugged, though not enough to remove her hand.

"Jack, I'm a prisoner her just as much as you are!"

"Aye, but I get the honorary title of first mate." He winked, good humor returning. Well, at least as much as it could in his present situation. "And you're stuck with captain's daughter. Not a lovely ring to that."

"Jack. Please be serious long enough to listen to me."

"About what? The boy's going to be a wreck, if I know anything about 'im. He was close enough before; this'll send him over the edge, I'm sure."

Unfazed, Mina lowered her voice and bent closer. "I have a plan."

Jack stroked his beard. "Crazy?"

"Yes."

"Suicidal?"

"Possibly."

"Is it one of your plans where, if one tiny little detail goes wrong, we get lined up and shot without even a last meal?"

"That's the sort."

"Well." He sat up, putting the tips of his fingers together and resting his chin on them. "Let's hear it, then."

* * * * *

Elizabeth sighed as she brushed her hair one thousand strokes. "Will, what's wrong?"

"Why should anything be wrong?" But the lightness in his tone did not match with the way he stood before the window, arms crossed and gaze turned inward as his eyes rested unseeingly on the harbor.

"It's the same thing that's been wrong for a while, isn't it?" she asked bluntly. "And you won't tell me."

"Nothing's wrong," he repeated firmly, pulling the shutters closed before turning to her. "Absolutely nothing."

She turned back to the mirror. "You're a terrible liar, you know," she pointed out softly.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Then I'm not a pirate, after all." Before she could say anything else he crossed the room and kissed her cheek. "Come, let's to bed; we've a busy day tomorrow."

Sighing, she set her brush aside, troubled by the unknown that was troubling her husband. She lay awake long into the night, the sliver of light that cut between the shutters falling across the room like a path she could walk to the stars.


	3. Chapter Three

Elizabeth sat with her back ramrod straight in the jollyboat, parasol poised perfectly behind her so that no direct sunlight fell on her face. She gave all outward appearance of being calm and demure, as every young woman should be, though – had any of them stopped to look in her eyes – they would have noticed the joy and muted excitement captured within.

Will was silent, brown eyes intent on the ship before them. It was large, magnificent, and – he could not help noting – like a beacon used to attract pirates. Swiftly his gaze sought out cannon ports and found none. The ship itself was large and elaborate, paint and gold leaf, impressive, but not impressive enough to weaken the knees of any pirate worth his salt. Even under full sail, the _Redemption_ would be slower and less agile than ships such as the _Pearl._

Trying to tear such thoughts from his head now would be like asking himself not to breathe. Will had avoided even going down to the harbor since the day Captain Jack Sparrow went over the wall, preferring not to tempt fate, blood, or what have you. Many times Will had wondered if he might have followed Jack, if he could have grabbed Elizabeth's hand and pulled her from her life as a governor's daughter into the life of a pirate's wife. Most times he came to the conclusion that Elizabeth was not meant for such a life, so his sacrifice in staying with her was the best choice he could make.

"The captain is pleased that you could come." That was the second mate, standing in the stern and overseeing the men at the oars. Will had forgotten his name completely.

"Then we are pleased to honor his request," Elizabeth said smoothly to cover up for her husband's lack of response. She smiled, taking his hand, hers in a delicate white glove. Everything about her this day was delicate from her hat to her dress; even her shoes were not meant for walking, but for merely peeking out from under the hem of her skirt and looking fine.

The second mate had no reply ready for her. In all reality, the invitation stated to the governor had been for Mr. Turner only, though there was no gracious way of refusing the lady once she had accepted for them both. Nodding once, deeply, he busied himself with the approach to the ship and getting them aboard.

Elizabeth curtsied slightly to the silver-haired man who met them. "Captain Torrington."

"He's not even the first mate," one of the deck hands said, though he received an elbow in the ribs for this fact.

"Yeh weren't supposed t' bring the girl," the man growled, eyes sliding past Will to the second mate.

The other man sputtered. "But – but the captain said –"

Elizabeth looked slightly confused. "I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood the invitation." Will put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from going any further, eyes darting around the deck.

"There's nothing t' be done now," the man she had mistaken as the captain proclaimed grimly. "You know what to do."

* * * * *

Jack's hands were lifted above him, the sores on his wrist in danger of being reopened if he relaxed his legs and let himself dangle. Mina did not have the key for these chains, or else she might have been able to let him down for at least a few moments of respite. As it was, she was able to give him water from a ladle and take his mind off the pain with idle – and witty – talk that had to do with the first time they had known each other, though only certain, safe aspects thereof.

Now, though, there was a problem. Both of them could taste the tension in the air and the cloth she had been using to cool his forehead dropped by his feet. "He's here," she whispered, as though speaking out loud would reach the men on the other side of the thick door and up on deck.

Ears straining to catch even the smallest sound, Jack refrained from shaking his head lest that give the slightest clinking of chain. "Something's wrong."

Her eyes swiveled in their sockets, though she need not have worried about chains. "What?"

His amber orbs traced the ceiling above them as though they could pierce the wood and witness the drama overhead. "That's not all for him, love. Unless he's his trademark self and done something incredibly . . . stupid."

Mina was moved strongly enough by this to shake her head. "He's not to know, not until we're far out of the harbor and there's no chance of him reacting."

He gave her a look that was easy to interpret.

"I couldn't tell you before, all right? It wasn't the opportune moment." There was no mocking in her voice; that saying he had gotten from her.

"So tell me now."

She took a deep breath. "The boy – Will, sorry – was to be brought aboard and introduced to Smithy, with Smithy playing the captain. We were to set sail and they'd seize him once we were out in safety, and then maybe you'd have someone else to talk gibberish to." The past tense was natural; they both knew something had gone wrong with the plan.

Jack snorted, arching his back slightly to ease some aching muscles, some that were so tight as to be knots that would take hours to massage away. "Well, we're moving now."

"Yes, thank you, I realized that." Her eyes flashed as she stooped to pick up the cloth and toss it into a corner. "And someone's coming."

"Get in the doorway," Jack instructed as though this had not happened so many times before. "Hurry, love."

The door was flung open as she stood before it, blocking the view from either side. It was a small doorway.

"Move aside," Smithy grunted, shoving his way past and reaching for the keys. He usually held the whip.

"This isn't part of the plan," Mina said stiffly, still in the doorway but turned around.

"Plans change, poppet," Smithy grunted. Jack really debated punching the man with the hand that had just been freed but decided against it, especially when the other arm was also released. Being chained to the vertical beam was really not all that bad; he could even lie down as he wished.

"Don't do anything stupid," Jack mouthed in her direction, but she was either not looking at him or ignoring him completely; both were distinct possibilities.

"Mr. Smith." Mina's eyes were flashing in a dangerous way, something Jack had seen a lot in the past eight months but not when she was still a child. "This was not part of the plan, and I will not stand for it."

His smirk was sickening. "Well, it's not your call, now, is it? Bring them in."

Jack's head snapped up at the use of the plural. Bound and gagged, Will was dragged in as Mina was shoved aside, his wrists occupying the happy space Jack's had just left. When he caught sight of Jack, Will stopped struggling monetarily out of shock, allowing them to catch his wrists more easily.

Mina grabbed Smithy's arm but he shoved her away, sending her stumbling backward. "Enjoy the company, poppet." But he was not speaking to Mina.

Before the door was shut and locked, Elizabeth was shoved in, gagged, missing her hat, and with her hands tied behind her back.

Jack, stretched out comfortably on his side, took them all in: Will strung up by his wrists, Elizabeth struggling against her skirts to sit up, and Mina looking at him with something akin to the face she usually wore when wondering what sort of joke fate was playing on her.

He smiled. "I thought you knew it wouldn't work out between us, Elizabeth, but it seems you just can't stay away from me for long."


	4. Chapter Four

Will go this tongue back after the door was shut and locked, trying to communicate through the gag and casting a wary glance at Mina. The girl frowned, looking back and forth between him and Elizabeth, finally going to the other young woman and pulling her gently to her feet, ignoring the look of terror in her eyes as she began to work on the rope that bound her hands.

As soon as she could, Elizabeth slapped the other girl. Mina grabbed her hand, noting the contrast of immaculately trimmed and polished nails against her own, bitten and dirty. "I know I didn't deserve that," she quipped, reaching out and yanking down the gag.

Elizabeth looked unsettled, eyes darting between Mina and her husband. "What do you want from us?" she asked, voice actually rather steady.

Mina shrugged, turning away and going to untie Will's gag. "Pleasant conversation and lack of physical harm would be nice."

Jack smiled wryly, head still propped up on his arm. "Elizabeth and Will, this is Mina. Mina, Will and Elizabeth. Now say your how-do-you-do's."

Will worked his tongue to get it wet again. "You're on speaking terms with your jailer?"

The other man shrugged. "I'm Jack Sparrow."

"I knew him when we were younger," Mina said shortly. "And that's not going to do anything." This last was directed at Elizabeth as she was inspecting the way the chains were fastened to the wall. Looking immensely tired, Mina crossed the room again and collapsed on the floor with her back to the door.

Elizabeth blinked. "How can you sit there? We've just been kidnapped by pirates!"

"Miss Elizabeth," Mina began, "Jack's been here eight months and I've been here nigh on . . . four or five years. Now, they're not going to do anything to kill your husband –"

"They're not?" Jack looked interested. "Tell me, what've you been hiding, love?"

"A lot," she shot back bluntly. "But you're now rather expendable."

That shut him up, a feat the king's navy had not been able to manage.

"Why _am_ I here?" Will demanded. "I think I have the right to know."

"Unfortunately, some others don't think along the same lines." Mina shrugged. "You're here because our captain demands it. I'm here because our captain demands it. Jack's here because he's an idiot and a fool. And you" – she nodded to Elizabeth – "no one wanted here at all, so that's a bit of a puzzlement."

Elizabeth was silent, pressed to her husband's side, though Will was not deterred. "What foolish thing landed him here?"

Jack moaned, flopping on his back and wincing as a chain dug into his side. "You had to ask that, mate."

Mina was without pity. "He lost the _Pearl_. Gambled it away. To our captain, which is half the foolishness."

"The _Pearl_." Will frowned. "I thought you were supposed to give it to Anamaria."

"Aye," Jack muttered, grabbing a handful of hay and letting it fall back to the floor. "I did."

"You gambled with something that wasn't your own?" Distracted from their immediate plight, Elizabeth looked horrified.

He closed his eyes. "I gambled with my soul and lost my freedom as well as my crew. I think I've been though enough without your disproval, Miss Sw – Mrs. Turner."

Mina blinked. "_Mrs_. Turner or _Miss_ Turner?"

"I don't have any brothers or sisters," Will said irritably.

Her frown deepened as she chewed absentmindedly on her thumbnail. "Still bad," she finally concluded. "Jack, it's really not going to work."

"_Jack_ or _Captain_ _Sparrow_?" Elizabeth said, glaring at the other young woman.

"For you, it's still Captain Sparrow," the man in question said lazily. "But for the one who secured me that position in the first place . . ."

"Enough flattery," Mina said flatly.

"I was talking about _you_, love." He raised an eyebrow. "This is really a problem, isn't it?"

Mina was silent a moment, climbing again to her feet to fetch two scraps of cloth and approaching Will. Elizabeth clutched him more tightly around the waist, though she herself was an ineffective shield as she hid behind him, but Mina was not even looking at him. Her attention was on his wrists as she padded first one and then the other against the rough cuffs.

"Whose side are you on?" Elizabeth demanded skeptically, still not moving away from her husband.

"Mine," Jack said, sitting up as she pulled a knife, a pot of salve and some clean cloths from her waistband.

"You assume much." Her tone was preoccupied as she inspected the sores on his wrists. The left one held a few open spots, nothing too terrible, though the right was in worse shape. All across the back of the wrist there was a sort of blister, a bubble of skin and fluid that needed to be attended properly. She started with the left, rubbing salve into the sores and binding it with what looked like a monogrammed handkerchief.

"Will you not answer any of our questions plainly and simply?" Will demanded, allowing himself to sag slightly now that his wrists were better padded.

"Yes." Mina nodded, running her fingers gently along the outside of the sore and noticing Jack's quick intake of breath. "That one."

"Don't distract her now," Jack said, closing his eyes. "Do a mate a favor."

"And what have you ever done for me?" Will spat.

"Got you a wife." He winced as the knife bit into his skin. "Taught you that you only feel at home on the water. Like your father."

This time both Will and Mina sucked in a breath, his eyes fixed on the pirate's face, hers on the task at hand. "My father was both a pirate and a decent man, you taught me that," he allowed, not willing to admit the rest out loud, and not in front of his wife.

But Jack had noticed Mina's reaction. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She reached for another strip of cloth. "It actually doesn't look that bad."

"Willemina."

Even if he had not reached over to lift her chin their eyes would have met, hers flashing. "I told you not to call me that."

"But not why."

Breaking the spell, she pulled away, rocking back and up onto her feet. "This would be a lot easier if you would just accept the fact that there are some things I'm not allowed to tell you."

Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. "And why won't you?" His voice was soft, insistent, and somehow intimate enough to make Will and Elizabeth look away. "You've told me everything before."

She shook her head slightly. "No. I haven't."

The breath went out of him. "You haven't?"

"What the 'ell is she doing free?" Smithy was back in the doorway.

Mina had no time to get to her feet, but she was there, anyway. "You don't think I'm going to look after the lot of them?" she asked, scorn all too obvious in her voice. "She can work. She's not going to try anything rash; she's one of the upper class." A mocking glance was tossed in Elizabeth's direction.

"She won't want t' be seein' this," he said smugly, gesturing slightly with his whip.

Her eyes flashed again. "Have you cleared this with the captain?"

He snorted. "Jus' because you're his daughter, missy, doesn't mean you're the only one in th' know."

"You are not to harm the prisoner."

Smithy rolled his eyes. "No, we're not allowed t' kill the prisoner. 's a difference."

A quick sidestep brought her between him and Will. "And if you whip the prisoner and one of his wounds gets inflamed? He becomes feverish. Who is to care for him? You? And what if he dies from something as simple as a whipping?"

"We need the information." But Smithy was not nearly so confident.

"You've been trying with that on for months." The look on her face was bordering smug. "And he hasn't yet spoken anything of – of importance."

Smithy twisted the whip in his hands, murder on his face before he threw it to the floor. "Damn you all," he muttered before going out, locking the door and even going so far as to place a bar over it.

"Come anytime," Jack called pleasantly. "What?"

Mina was looking at him. "I know."

"Know what?"

"The compass." She shook her head. "Amazing."

"What's amazing?" Elizabeth asked sharply, trying to comprehend something . . . anything . . . through her headache.

"The compass only points to Isla de Muerta when it's in your hand. _That's_ why so many think it useless. _That's_ why he can't find it. I can't believe I let myself forget. And then . . ." She trailed off, looking at him in wonder.

Jack smiled. "Bravo, love."

"But why . . ."

"I always told you we'd split the prize."

"You were joking. I was a child, you had – you didn't really mean –"

He shook his head slowly. "I only _thought_ I had her, and I _did_ really mean it."

Elizabeth blinked. "You two aren't . . ." She trailed off, sentence half-finished.

Jack laughed. "Watch that wife of yours, Will; she's starting to sound like us."

He smiled weakly. "Could you at least try to get me down?"

"Now, where are your manners?" Jack scolded, complete with shaking a finger. "This girl just saved you from a whipping."

"He wouldn't really have whipped Will, would he?" Elizabeth asked, still not letting him go.

In response, Jack turned his back and lifted his shirt.

It was answer enough.

* * * * *

Captain Torrington did not turn as the door opened. "You're lucky."

Smithy's mouth twitched. "We didn' mean t' take her, too. She just – came."

"And they've not yet begun to grow suspicious." The captain's brown eyes were focused on the harbor, growing smaller and smaller behind them. None of the other tall ships had been set to sail.

The other man cleared his throat. "Sir, your daughter – she's let the girl free, t' help, she said."

"Willemina." The corners of his mouth turned up in what would have been considered a small smile on any other man. "Let her. We've worked her hard these past months. Of course, the constant beatings haven't helped."

Smithy winced at the rebuke but said nothing, turning the brim of his hat round and round in his hands.

Silent for a moment longer, the captain nodded. "Good. Give my daughter anything she requests."

"Yes, sir."

"Smithy."

He stopped in the doorway and turned. "Sir?"

Torrington turned. "Offer my daughter anything she desires. And then give it to her."

Licking dry lips, Smithy tried to form a response. "And if that's . . . not wise?"

The captain strode across the room in three long steps, wavering only slightly in the transition from real leg to prosthesis. "You will give her whatever she asks," he said softly, eyes flashing. "And you will not question me again."

Throwing a hasty salute, Smithy left quickly before anything else could pass between them.


	5. Chapter Five

_Willemina sat on the steps of the abbey, the stones cool under her as the rising sun warmed her face.  She crossed her arms over her chest, slightly chilled in the thin shift she wore under her skirt and vest.  They were still the clothes of a child, though she was nigh on fifteen.  Her mother was reluctant to have her baby grow up._

_Normally she would have sought out the presence of the dashing street thief, Jack Sparrow, but not this morning.  He was about ten years older than she was, though he had taken a liking to her since they had met nearly nine years before.  Jack seemed to take devilish pleasure in taking her away from the nuns who nursed her mother, always ill with a bad cough, and teaching her the ways of the street.  Lately he had been spending more time with Miss Meredith Powell.  Besides being beautiful, Miss Powell was the only child of a wealthy widower who was likely to pass on any day and thus the center of attention of all he young men west of London.  Miss Powell had even been favoring Jack._

_In the beginning Willemina did not recognize the feeling in the pit of her stomach as jealousy.  She smiled for Jack's luck, and laughed with him, and encouraged him to leave and seek out Miss Powell's company._

_She always called the other woman "Miss Powell;" it made her seem less human, less like competition._

_For Jack's sake, Willemina never mentioned her feelings for him.  For one thing, Miss Powell was definitely a woman where she herself was only on the brink.  Where Miss Powell had money and influence, Willemina was a fatherless, poor girl who spent half her time with the nuns and the other half avoiding them._

_Willemina stuck a hand in her apron pocket where it was sagging with a weight.  For centuries her family had been the guardians of a great treasure.  It was said that, back on her mother's side, there was a grandmother with too many "greats" to count who had been alive with the arrival of Cortez and, as if that were not enough, was an elder in an Aztec village.  The dark skin and ebony hair had long since been weeded out in the family, but the guarding of the small box passed down nonetheless, from mother to daughter, and from Willemina's mother to Willemina.  Now, though, she felt it was time for the prophecy to be fulfilled._

One day there will come a man who seeks the treasure for the joy of the hunt, for what it makes him leave.  On that day, this will pass out of the family and cease to work for any but him.  _She knew the prophecy well, and she knew a young man who needed a hunt, needed some joy that would take him far away._

_Her stomach knotted as her hand clenched more tightly around the object, the corners cutting into her flesh.  Taking him far away from this also meant taking him far away from her._

_The night before, Miss Powell had chosen another man to be her husband.  He was an aristocrat, also wealthy, and – according to those who knew him – a total bore.  Upon hearing this Jack had turned on his heel and left, no questions asked._

_That had been earlier this morning, before dawn when he had awoken her with stones thrown at her window._

_A figure turned the corner onto the street, staggering, rum bottle in one hand.  It took her a moment to recognize this drunken staggering form as the straight-backed, bright-eyed young man she knew.  Leaping to her feet, Willemina went to Jack, catching him as he staggered.  "What are you thinking?" she whispered harshly, not wanting to disturb anyone behind the closed shutters up and down the length of the street._

_A lazy smile worked its way across his face.  "Will, fancy meetin' you here."_

_Clapping a hand over his mouth, she managed to steer him down a deserted – and semi-clean – alley before he collapsed, rum bottle clutched to his chest.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she repeated, no louder but no less insistent, crouching down and trying to look in his glassy eyes._

_"Drownin' me problems, love," he slurred, raising the bottle again._

_She grabbed it and tossed it away, ignoring his protests as it shattered on the cobblestones and dribbled amber liquid down the street.  "You never drink!"_

_He shrugged, head at an obscure angle as he was no longer able to prop it up.  "I do now.  's a good time to start, don't you think?  Wha's the word?"_

_"Opportune moment," she said through gritted teeth, showing her hair out of her eyes.  "And this is not it."_

_"'Course it is.  Lose a girl, drown in a bottle."  His grin, still pure white, had an awful slant._

And what of me?_  Will bit back the question.  This was all wrong.  He was supposed to be able and ready to receive the gift, to get to London and secure a passage to America so he might seek out her father and start on the quest the gods had written out long before any of them were born.  What was she supposed to do now?  Wait for him to recover enough to stagger back and buy more rum?  She could not very well explain the curses and blessings of Isle de Muerta here and now, not with him in this situation, though she could also not bring him back to the abbey to recover._

_Taking a deep breath, Willemina steadied herself, hands on Jack's shoulders.  Carefully – and with great care to detail – she described all the wonders of Isle de Muerta, stressing the curse._

_Jack looked amazingly clear-headed when she was done.  "Well, Will; I should get drunk more often, then, if you're going to tell me things like this.  How do I find this place?"_

_She pulled the object from her pocket and placed it in his hand.  Amused, Jack opened it.  He stifled a laugh.  "Someone's been foolin' with you, love.  Your compass doesn't point north."_

_But, instead of revolving lazily on its axis, the needle was indeed pointing _somewhere_. "You're not trying to find north."   _He's the one,_ Will thought, both pleased at having seen it and saddened at the fact that fate would take him far away.  "It only works for you," she said softly, trying out a smile and feeling how false it was at the corners.  "It's your treasure, Jack."_

_Snapping it shut, he stashed it in his pocket.  "You say to find your father and he'll help me."_

_She nodded.  "That he will.  All pirates will do anything for treasure."_

_"Pirates?"__  She had not spoken of her father before, and he was intrigued.  "Your father's a pirate?"_

_Again, Will nodded._

_"I knew you were named for him . . . a pirate."  Jack frowned, running a finger over his bottom lip.  "Once I get the treasure, I'll come back."_

_"So you can show Miss Powell what sort of mistake she made when she overlooked you?"  Will could not keep the bitterness from her voice.  She knew, deep inside, that sending Jack off on this mad hunt would change him, probably into the men her father had befriended: unfaithful drunks who, if it could be managed, never spend more than one night with the same girl.  _But it's his destiny,_ she told herself.  _The compass points for him.__

_"Why?"  Jack raised an eyebrow.  "Because you deserve an even share."_

_"I deserve no such thing."_

_"You do."  He took her chin in his hand.  "Because you've always seen what she's overlooked."_

_He kissed her then, the first and only kiss she had taken in her life.  Will was half convinced it was only because he was drunk.  His lips tasted strongly of rum and his cheeks were rough with a day's growth of beard, things she remembered long after he had gone.  It was a long kiss, one from which she both desperately needed to and yet never wanted to pull away._

_The look he gave her was carefully guarded as he climbed to his feet and walked away.  From that moment on, Willemina made it her first priority to forget Jack Sparrow and remove every element of him from her life._

_She failed._

* * * * *

Mina blinked.  "Anything I want?"

Smithy nodded, obvious thoughts flashing behind his eyes.

She cast a lazy glance over her shoulder, at the door that was cracked slightly so the prisoners would not feel compelled to discussing escape plans.  "Well, then.  After this is over" – Smithy knew what she meant, if no one else did – "I want you to set Jack Sparrow free.  So he can spend the rest of his life knowing he owes a great debt to a woman."

This not being exactly what Smithy was thinking – not being too bright, he was imagining having to take Elizabeth out of commission so Mina could have a shot at the blacksmith – he blinked stupidly.  "You want him t' go free."

"Can you imagine?"  Mina smiled, an evil glint in her eye.  "Knowing I can call him on a debt at any time, and wondering exactly what it's going to be."

"An' it could be anything."  Smithy's face broke into a wicked gap-toothed grin.  "'s yours."

Jack shook his head as the door closed.  "I already owe you, Will-"

"I told you not to call me that," she said briskly, cutting him off before seeing whether it was the old nickname or the entire spiel.

"And what's to happen to us, 'after this is all over'?" Will asked.  He looked immensely tired though, after a few hours, Smithy had taken him down.

Jack nodded.  "Good question, mate.  And maybe the girl will answer you?"

_The girl_.  Mina sighed.  Back to that again.  "I don't know."

Will looked horrified, but Jack only laughed.  "Least she's honest, boy."

"Will there be something to happen to us 'after this is all over'?" Elizabeth asked, looking slightly sick, but like she had to ask, anyway.

Mina took a deep breath and let it out.  "You and Jack don't have to worry about that.  Just what's going to happen to you along the way."

"So then whatever plays out here involves me.  It's the reason I'm here."  Will shook his head, frowning.  "But why?  What in the world could your captain want with me?"

"That is not my story to tell."  Distinctively stone faced, Mina took up her customary position in front of the door, took a knife out of her sash, and began to whittle away at a carving, singing softly to herself.  "And really bad eggs. . . ."


	6. Chapter Six

The next morning, the captain thought it safe to give Jack and Will some fresh air.  This had happened before; the chains were still on the main mast, securing their ankles and wrists with little room for movement.

As soon as the men were in place, Mina roughly grabbed Elizabeth's wrist and took her into a cabin, leaving her in the middle of the room and going through a trunk.  "Put these on," the captain's daughter instructed, tossing out a man's shirt and pair of pants.  "There's work to be done."

"Work?"  Elizabeth balked.  "I thought you were joking."

"You thought Jack was joking about the whippings," Mina reminded, holding out the garments.

The other young woman snatched them away, casting a glance around the room for a screen or curtain of some kind.  "And where am I to change?" she asked, less delicately than snootily.

"Where you stand, unless you'd rather do so out on deck.  It's really no concern of mine."  Crossing her arms, Mina leaned against the wall, not looking away until Elizabeth threw down the clothes and began undoing her dress.

When Elizabeth was done, Mina again took her wrist, leading her out onto the deck and showing her a bucket and scrub brush.  "Anything that doesn't move must be sparkling clean," she instructed, loud enough for those around her to her.

Elizabeth winced slightly, picking up the brush and making a noise of protest as she dipped it in the bucket.  "That sings!"

"Get to work!"  When Elizabeth showed no sign of moving, Mina knelt swiftly, again grabbing Elizabeth's wrist and pulling her in close enough so that she would not have to speak so loudly that her words would carry.  "Aye, the lye stings, but not so much as a whip on your back. And again: aye, it may take away the beauty of your hands, but not as much as a hot poker pressed to that pretty face.  Do I make myself clear?"

Her eyes flashed.  "I'm the governor's daughter.  They wouldn't dare."

Mina shrugged.  "You're the governor's daughter.  They would."  Standing, she said in a normal tone, "Get to work."

Will struggled to get enough chain to be able to look around the mast at Jack, neck chained at an uncomfortable angle.  "What are they doing to her?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Nothing permanent, mate," Jack said, almost grinning to see the proud young woman on her hands and knees.  "Character building, really.  You've got to scrub harder than that, love."

Mina was in front of him in a flash, holding him with an intense gaze.  "Is that what you want, to make things worse?  Because you can't go free on my wishes if you're dead."

Jack frowned.  "I only told her –"

"I know what you told her," Mina snapped, cutting him off and glancing around.  "And you should keep your mouth shut for once in almost twelve years.  We can't get out of this alone; I thought you knew that."

He scowled.  "Remind me to introduce you to Anamaria sometime."

Already in a stormy mood for reasons he did not know, Mina seemed to grow colder as he watched.  "Yes, I'm sure your precious Anamaria and I will be seeing a lot of each other," she spat, turning on her heel and grabbing another brush, taking out her frustrations on the boards, and showing Elizabeth that she should use force on the brush and not just move it back and forth.

"What was that all about?" Will wondered.

"I think I know," Jack replied grimly.  "And it's not good, mate.  Not good at all."

* * * * *

Mina nudged Elizabeth with her foot.  In her sleep the young woman had tucked herself under Will's chin, both of them ignoring the chains anchoring him in the room below decks.  "Go away," Elizabeth muttered, burrowing deeper into Will's chest.

"The sun was up an hour ago."

"The sun went to bed at a decent hour," was the muttered response.

Mina poked her with one of the dowels of wood she held in her hands.  "Get up."

"So I can scrub the ship again?  I don't think so."

"I think you want to get up, Miss – Mrs. Turner," Jack said lazily, accidentally-on-purpose starting to call her by her maiden name.  "Unless you want to be completely useless in means of our escape, of course."

That made her open her eyes.  "What escape?  And how are two wooden sticks going to help?"

"Get up and I'll show you."

Looking as though she were doing Mina a personal favor, Elizabeth got to her feet, straightening the voluminous shirt and tightening the sash around the loose waist of the pants.  "I'm up."

Tossing her one of the poles, Mina held the other by one end as though it were a sword.  "Watch your footwork," Jack said, though his eyes were still closed.  "You know that's your weak point, love."

"I know my weak points better than _you," Mina grunted, lunging out – with perfect form, Will noted from behind slitted lids himself – and knocking Elizabeth's "sword" aside.  The captain's daughter sighed, briefly closing her eyes so that Elizabeth wondered if such a thing were catching. "Pick it up.  And try to block me this time, would you?"_

"Proper young ladies don't learn to swordfight," Elizabeth protested.

"Elizabeth.  Have you forgotten all but the best details of that incident last year?" Will asked.  "Do you think that being a proper young woman matters now?  You need to learn how to fight, and learn quickly, and well."

"I don't trust her."  Elizabeth crossed her arms.  "She's hiding something."

"Maybe she is –"

"She is," Mina intoned, though Will paid her no heed and continued.

"– but she's going to teach you something that may save your life.  If Jack trusts her with a blade . . . a stick . . . then she's good."

Jack raised an eyebrow.  "Did you hear that, love?  A compliment.  And I didn't even fight fair."

"Do you ever?" Mina asked, going back into her stance as Elizabeth, thoroughly chastised and silent but fuming, picked up her dowel and attempted a clumsy imitation.

"One hand," Will coached.  "Yes, now turn – your fingers – yes, like that."

"Don't be too hard on her, love."  Jack would have pushed his had foreword on his head and leaned back with it pillowed on his arms, but he did not have his hat.  "She might break a nail."

"A _nail?" Elizabeth shrieked, lashing out._

Mina quickly turned the dowel aside.  "Not bad.  Maybe Jack should speak more often."

"Why you little –"

"Ah, ah, ah."  Jack shook his finger scoldingly.  "Proper young ladies would have no words to finish that sentence, love."

"But I do."  Mina dodged out of the way.  "What is it you wanted to call me?  A brat?"  She ducked a wild swing.  "Or something with more bite, perhaps?  Would you stoop low enough for 'whore' or should I not even trouble your ears?"

"Try something worse," Elizabeth grunted, shoving her hair out of her face and breathing hard, two spots of pink highlighting her cheeks.

Mina stepped back, lowering her dowel.  "Now, look: you need to be able to swing like that without getting ruffled.  I can't be yelling insults at you ever time I need you to make a decent opponent!"

The other woman froze, dowel still up, eyes not leaving Mina's face.  "You're trying to trick me."

"Into fighting properly, yes."  Mina cocked her head.  "I need more fire, less heat."

Finally Elizabeth, too, stepped back.  "Why are you telling me this?"

Will sighed.  "If we're ever going to get out of here, we're going to need all the help we can get."

For a moment the only noise was that of the timbers creaking as the boat rocked on the swells.  "Then you admit to needing us," Mina finally said.  Her brow was furrowed slightly as she scrutinized him, though the blacksmith would not raise his eyes to meet hers.  "You don't even know the whole story."

"And you won't tell us," he countered, glancing up for an immeasurably small amount of time.

Jack shook his head.  "There's something you need to tell all of us, love."

"There's nothing I need to do, ever," Mina said, this time being the one to avoid eye contact.

"No."  Jack shrugged.  "You need to answer a few questions, and you need to do it soon."

"Like what?" she asked tonelessly.

He spread his hands.  "Why didn't Bootstrap Bill die when the curse was lifted, and what's he doing gambling me out of my own ship – 'scuse me, _Anamaria's ship – and kidnapping his own son?"_

* * * * *

_The wedding bells seemed to follow her, echoing even in the darker alleys and side streets.  They were the bells of Miss Powell's wedding, bells that seemed to taunt Willemina with every stroke._

_Three weeks earlier Jack Sparrow had set off for London.  He had sent her a letter, a quick scrawl with neither greeting nor signature, saying simply that his ship left in two days' time.  When she received it, he had already gone._

_Her mother was worse.  Willemina – she refused to call herself "Will;" only Jack had ever done that – thought she knew why.  Without the compass to guard, the woman was slipping away.  Mina herself was not enough of a reason to hold on._

_She sighed, sitting down on the front steps of an abandoned shop, feeling the cold of the stones leaking through her dress.  Absentmindedly she ran a finger across her lips, remembering the kiss and at the same time trying to suppress it._

_The bells stopped._

_Mina looked up to the sky, to the cotton clouds and deep blue background, wondering if Jack were thinking of her, too – knowing he must not be._

_She sat there a long time, thinking of everything and nothing – thinking of _Jack_ – and completing yet another long, empty day trying to forget everything that had made her alive._


	7. Chapter Seven

Elizabeth was still in shock as Mina locked the door and threw the bar across it, disappearing up the ladder, her form hazy through the frosted glass.  "What did you just say?" she demanded, turning to Jack.

"Forget that for a moment," said Will, partially to delay having to process what had just been revealed, partly because this was as private a moment as he and Elizabeth were going to get.  "Look at me."

"But –"

"But nothing."  Will caught her wrist, pulling her closer and ignoring the fact that, though he looked completely relaxed, Jack was straining his ears.  "Elizabeth, what's wrong with you?"

"Wrong?"  She bristled, hoping he would not have noticed – at least, not enough to say anything.  "Nothing's wrong.  We're captured by pirates, your father's come back from the dead – what could be wrong?"

He shook her slightly.  "Why are you acting this way?"

"What way?"

"Elizabeth!"

"Perhaps because she feels threatened, mate," Jack drawled, head pillowed on his hands as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

Will blinked.  "Threatened?"

Elizabeth was giving him a look that was enough to scorch his hair, but Jack continued anyway.  "You're a pirate, mate, and pirates always drift toward their own.  Unless, of course, they don't want the world to know they're pirates, in which case they don't."

"_What?"_

"Hold your tongue," Elizabeth snapped.

"I believe she was talking to you," Jack said to Will.  "Anyway, since you've decided you're one who doesn't want the world to know, you'd naturally want someone primped and perfect, not Will – Mina – a pirating lass with as good a sword arm as your own and a tongue that can be three times worse."  From the look on his face it was obvious that Jack really did not mind either her arm or her tongue, even though both were usually displayed against him.  "So then your bonny lass has decided to show you that you indeed wed the right one."

Will blinked.  "Where's the logic in that?"

"Whoever told you women we logical, mate?"  Jack shrugged.  "Besides, Elizabeth – may I call you Elizabeth?"

"Mrs. Turner," she corrected, eyes flashing.

"Mrs. Turner, then.  Besides, that husband of yours is a bit too closely related to Will – Mina – the pirate lass – to even think of leaving you."  As ever, there was a hint of mockery to the way he gestured lazily with one hand.

Will took a deep breath, preparing to demand of Elizabeth how she could even think he would look at another woman, but she spoke first.  "Why do you keep calling her Will?"

"'s what I always called her.  I've been calling her Will years longer than I've known your bonny lad."  Jack smiled, closing his eyes and seeming to disappear into a place only he knew.

Will adjusted his hand so he could interlace their fingers.  "Elizabeth.  Is that true?"

She could hardly bring herself to look at him.   "I've seen the looks you were giving her.  And I thought – I thought, you married a governor's daughter, so that's what I should be.  I mean," she hastened, "I can't tell you the number of times I've thought about asking you to teach me about sword fighting, but when it's with her – she just rubs me the wrong way.  I can't bring myself to listen to her, not when she's always looking at us like she knows something we don't."

"Well, she does," he pointed out.  "So you might want to get used to that."

Elizabeth sighed, tucking herself under his chin.  "I feel like I'm losing you.  Maybe not to her, but to . . . to something."

Something twisted in the region of Will's stomach.  "You're not losing me," he promised, feeling somewhat empty.  Piracy called to him, indeed, and he _had been intrigued by Mina from the start, but not in the way Elizabeth had feared.  It was more . . . well, he could not exactly say what it was more of, but it was not that._

After a moment of silence, Elizabeth asked, "Where is she?"

"With Jack," Jack said, voice more annoyed than neutral.

She frowned, pulling back.  "Who?"

"Oh, you didn't see him earlier?  He was probably asleep."  The pirate shrugged.  "He lives in her cabin."

"Oh?"  Will was looking confused, glad to have something other than his father upon which to concentrate.

"Yes.  She keeps him in a cage."

* * * * *

Jack had originally belonged to Bootstrap Bill but, when Bootstrap was sent to the bottom of Davy Jones' Locker, Barbarossa had taken to the monkey.  Mina did not know how her father had gotten the monkey back, and she had never asked, though the little fur ball had been hers for almost a year.

Taking him out of the cage, Mina let him crawl up her arm and come to rest on her shoulder, taking the opportunity to stroll out on deck.  It was a dusky twilight, damp with fog, and not many were above deck.  It was only a short time before the familiar footsteps came closer.

"Jack knows who you are," she said softly as her father's hands rested on the railing next to hers.

"That doesn't surprise me."

Mina turned her face to him.  "He looks a lot like you."

Bootstrap knew she meant Will.  "All the worse for him, then."  He attempted a smile, though it seemed empty when she looked back out over the water.

"Jack told them."

"Jack doesn't know very much," the captain said carefully.

"He told them who you are.  That's enough, isn't it?"  She turned all the away around, leaning back with her elbows on the railing as Jack caught a rope and started climbing the rigging.  She let him go.  "They want to know why you took Will."

He stiffened.  "They shouldn't know."

"But if you just worked together –"

"That's now how it works, Willemina," he said sharply.  "You know nothing about curses and how they are tied to blood."  Straightening, the captain began to slowly walk away.  "They won't be told, and I'll never meet him.  It's all for the best."

Jack dropped back onto her shoulder when she whistled and she scratched his head.  "Best for you, maybe," she said to him, though still talking to her father.  "But I already knew the rest of us don't matter."  Sighing, she climbed back down the ladder.

* * * * *

"He tried to figure out how to get the cannon off his feet without hurting himself.  Not that it hurt him then; but he didn't want to have to go around mangled after he got free.  After a bit, because of the water, one of his feet worked its way loose.  Still, seven years was long enough for him.

"He broke his leg off below the knee.  The moonlight didn't make it down that far or he would have waited until night so it didn't really look like he was hurting himself.  Anyway, he's a peg leg now, because there was really no way to reattach the leg below the knee.  After making his way to shore he dried himself off, stole some money, and bought a passage to England to find me."

Mina shrugged.  "He'd always masqueraded as a proper gentleman there.  That's how he won over my mother: with lies and deceit."

"Our mother," Will corrected.

"Both of us are named after him," she continued as though he had not spoken.  "It's his vanity, I suppose."

"_Our mother," Will repeated, a note of pleading evident in his voice.  Elizabeth slipped her hand in his._

"So he went back and got you.  Then what?" Jack prompted.

She shrugged again.  "Somehow he found the money for a crew and ship.  Maybe he'd had it saved somewhere; I don't know.  The point is, for three years we pretended as a crew loyal to the king and all that.  Then, about a year ago, the curse was lifted.  For the first time in years he could stand under the moonlight.  That's when we came here."

"But not why."

Mina cocked her head.  "We came here because the curse was lifted."

Will took a deep breath.  "They say I look like him."

She nodded.  "You do.  I don't; I look like my mother."

"My mother looked nothing like you."  It was hard to tell from his voice whether Will was hurt or resigned.

"No.  I'm told she didn't."  After a short pause, she continued.  "I only saw him once or twice when I was little.  The second time was a few weeks before Jack left to find him."  The monkey had run to her, chattering, when he heard his name, and she stroked his head as he climbed into her lap and curled up in the crook of her knee.

"You're the same age as I am, then?"

"A few months younger, yes."

They looked at each other a long while, her eyes less piercing than usual, his harder.

Elizabeth sighed, grabbing one of the dowels.  "Well, since you're not going to tell us anything else right now, we might as well do something worthwhile."

Mina smiled.  It had been her suggestion to Jack that eventually worked its way to Will that made Will put a stop to the goody-goody act.  "Sure.  Let's begin."


	8. Chapter Eight

Will was sitting with his back against the wall, not being able to comfortably lie down, but his mouth was curved slightly into a smile in his sleep.  Elizabeth murmured something, burrowing her head into his chest and giving a sigh of contentment, a fistful of his shirt in one hand as though she could not bear the thought of letting him go.  His arms were around her, draped loosely, fingers interlaced.

Mina was trying to figure out why this was causing her to feel so . . . empty.  Whittling away at a block of wood in her hands, Jack – the monkey – asleep on a cushion beside her and Jack – the pirate – pretending to sleep but actually scrutinizing her through slitted lids, she sighed.  The emptiness was not in her chest but more in the pit of her stomach, leaving a painful throbbing under her ribcage.  _What's wrong with you? she chastised herself.  _He's your half brother._  Yet, at the same time, she knew it was not that type of jealousy._

She rolled her head around and lifted her shoulders to try to relive some of the tension she was feeling.  The afternoon had proven trying, especially when Elizabeth proved as quick with the . . . dowel . . . as she was with her tongue.  Granted, Mina had never trained anyone in the blade before, but she was willing to bet that Elizabeth was a faster learner than half.

"'s no way to get rid of tension, love," Jack said lazily.

Automatically her spine straightened as she formalized herself in preparation for dealing with him.  "And you have a better way?"

"Sure I do.  Come here."  He pushed himself up so he was sitting like Will, motioning her to sit in front of him, presenting him with her back.  Slowly – almost hesitantly – she complied, sitting stiffly even as his hands began to work at the muscles in her shoulders.  "Ah, you've got to relax more than that, love," he coaxed.

Almost reluctantly she allowed herself to loosen slightly, not leaning back toward him at all and telling herself that was because he would not be able to keep up the massage if he did.

"Feel better?"

"Somewhat."

Jack halfway smiled and halfway rolled his eyes, working his way down her back and working away at the knots in her back.  "Hard as a rock, love.  Take some weight off that bonny head of yours."

Mina closed her eyes.  "It's not a bonny head and you know I can't."

"Ah, it's bonny if I say it's bonny, and I do.  Savvy?"

_I know better than to take your word, Jack_.  Instead of voicing her thought, she settled for an indistinct "Mmm" that he took to mean "That feels good."

He was silent a while, noting the way she was letting her guard down.  "Why don't you believe me, love?"

"You've said that before."  It was almost a whisper; she was falling asleep, relaxing back into his arms and not protesting when his arm slid around her waist.

"'s the truth."

"No."  Her head shook, which he felt more than saw as it was tucked under his chin.  "To – to the others."  She yawned, settling even deeper into him.  He was more comfortable than the wood floor, at any rate.

"But I didn't mean it to them."

No answer.

Carefully Jack pulled away far enough to look at her and stroke her cheek.  Giving her a soft kiss he settled back with her in his arms, assured of pleasant dreams.

He awoke sometime later in the middle of the night.  For a moment he wondered why something felt wrong, glancing around in the dark hold lit only by moonlight filtered down from above and through the glass in the door.

Mina was in her usual place, stretched out in front of the doorway fast asleep, head on the pillow and the monkey curled up on her stomach.  Feeling slightly betrayed, Jack rolled over and closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to become regular long before he actually fell asleep.

Mina's eyes opened, glinting in the light, and she sighed.  The monkey gave a little whimper and she soothed him with her hand, keeping another sigh to herself.  While Jack eventually gave out a snore that attested to the fact that he was really asleep, she saw the first golden light of dawn creep down the stairs, wishing the floor were more welcoming than his arms.

* * * * *

Mina fingered the beads around her neck, lips moving with the words running through her head.  Her father thought she was doing something left over from her Abbey days, using a Rosary or some such thing.  Jack, however, was not fooled.  She had once given him a string of beads that she said would protect him.  After a while in the pirating business it seemed fashionable to tie them in his hair.  He had not unwittingly fallen under the curse, nor had he died on that island either time he was stranded.  Maybe it had nothing to do with the beads, but he was not about to make any bets.

Her power was very limited, that he knew, as she was never properly trained by her mother.  Sometimes she could manage dreams across great distances, but only with people she knew well.  That, and Jack had argued that the governor was not about to set a ship out on a certain heading simply because he had a _dream that he would find his daughter there.  Heck, Jack himself had supposedly been "sent" a dream not to gamble with the _Pearl_, but he wrote it off as a remnant from his life long passed and went and did it, anyway._

For a change Jack and Will were chained together at the ankles with a heavy weight between them, the message being clear: should anything stupid conspire, it would only take a well-placed kick to send the weight – and them – to the bottom of Davy Jones' locker.  Still, the captain would be watching from his cabin, ready to emerge with the key and unchain his son so that Jack would be the only one waving good-bye.

"You do realize he's not going to be asleep in the middle of the day," Jack intoned lazily as she turned away from the railing and dropped the beads back down her shirt.

Mina rolled her eyes, surveying the work Elizabeth was doing.  The young woman had again put up a fight when told to scrub the deck, this time on Mina's orders, though nothing more harmful than words passed between them.  "The longer it sits in his mind, the stronger the dream will be and the more likely he will remember it."  She looked slightly ill, pale, and she wiped a drop of sweat from her brow.  "He's too literal, too caught up in materialistic things to believe in spells or curses."

"So was I, love, until you came along."  He raised an eyebrow, stretching and folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back against the rail, lifting the heavy chain around his ankles and crossing them, ignoring the iron cuffs cutting into his ankles.  "Maybe I should say, 'until you saved my life.'  Hmm?"

Mina gave him a look.  "Which time?" she asked sweetly, taking the other brush and bucket and setting to work near him at a brisk pace, giving Elizabeth a look from time to time as though gauging whether or not she were any real competition.

"What was the thing with the beads?" Will asked for lack of anything better to do.

Mina shrugged.  "A long way back on my mother's side, every woman has been involved in magic."

"Witchcraft?"

"If you like.  Dream-casting, spell-weaving, and the like.  I'm not trained up properly; Mother was too sick to teach me and it doesn't work too well inside holy walls."  She rolled her eyes.  "With any luck – all right, with a lot of luck – your father-in-law will have a dream tonight about which heading to sail to catch up with us."

Will shook his head.  "Assuming that's true, he'd never follow it."

"'s what we were afraid of," Jack said rather cheerfully.  "I don't suppose you could get me a hat, love?  The sun's in my eyes."

Reaching out, Mina pulled his bandana down over his face, effectively cutting off his sight.  Jack sat up quickly, shoving it back into place.  "What've I said about –?"

"I didn't do anything," she said, irked.  "It was covered the entire time."

Will blinked.  "What was covered?"

Mina's smile turned raw.  "Did you ever have a mark you decided was too unique to let the whole world see?"

Instinctively Will's left hand went to cover a spot on his right forearm, close to the inside of his wrist, and he noticed she wore a cloth band in the same place.  "What . . . ?"

"Royalty are branded at birth so no mix-ups can occur.  Unfortunately, our father's not royalty, but pirates make the same practice."  Unwinding the cloth, she showed him the mark, same as his: an ornate "T" with a loop on the left end of the crossbar.  "Do you know what that means?"

"Uh . . ."

"It's a warning.  To avoid the noose."  Her smile was wry.  "We had to be branded."

"Why?"

"Because of what I've not been telling you."  She shrugged.  "Anyway, ours were to mark us.  Some go as punishment."

"Like this'un, mate."  Jack pulled up his sleeve to show the branded "P."

"Pirates are worse," Mina continued, dipping the brush in the bucket again.  "They give you marks harder to hide for the smallest things."

Will's eyes slid over to Jack.  "What'd you do?"

He shrugged.  "I got caught."

Mina laughed.  "It's the first time he stole the _Pearl_."

"I won 'er fair and square," he argued.

"By cheating," Mina corrected.  "So they caught him, decided to prevent him from doing anything like that again, and got run through by his crew when they were done."

"Maybe the scarf only makes me look dashing," Jack said stiffly.  "Maybe I only told you that story to impress you."

She shrugged.  "Well, in that case . . ."

"Stop!"  He caught her hand before it reached the scarf again and threw it aside.  "Women."

Will laughed and she winked impishly at him.  "Thought so."

Elizabeth had looked up at the laugh, so free and familiar, and she caught the wink.  The look on her face was unreadable as she turned back to the deck, scrubbing harder and faster than before, so she missed the way Jack was looking at Mina as she picked up her bucket and went to a new, dry patch of deck and bent her head there.


	9. Chapter Nine

Mina sat back on her heels, casting a glance across the deck and making sure no one else was listening.  "Why are you always so haughty?"  She asked it softly, but bluntly, cocking her head and looking at Elizabeth,

The other young woman snorted.  "Haughty?  I am nothing of the sort."

"Mmm."  Her eyebrows rose in a look terribly reminiscent of Jack Sparrow.  "Now, was that supposed to strengthen my point?  Because it did."

She looked almost scandalized, delicately raising one eyebrow.  "I'm afraid I don't see your point."

"Very well."  Mina spread her hands.  "You manage to look down on everyone.  It's the way you carry yourself, the way you subconsciously lift your chin and lower your shoulders to make yourself look taller, or at least more imposing."

"I do nothing of the sort," Elizabeth snapped, at the same time doing just that in her anger.

Mina gave her a reproachful look.

"Oh, very well."  She scowled.  "But I only do it because you are indeed lower than I am."

Instead of being offended, Mina looked mildly intrigued.  "Am I?  I boast the same status as your husband."  She decided not to mention that, when she felt things were not going her way, Elizabeth also appeared to attempt to dominate Will.

"You were born out of wedlock."

Mina's eyebrows rose further.  "And he wasn't?"

She just stared.

"Listen: our father never married.  He pledged his heart and faithfulness for the rest of his life to at least two women, and I wouldn't be surprised to find more Wills running around, of varying ages and either sex.  Though, of course, none of them younger than ten years," she amended.

Elizabeth was having almost as hard a time breathing as when she wore her corset.  "Will never said –"

"We all tell ourselves lies, Elizabeth."  Mina shrugged, looking almost sympathetic.  "Sometimes lies are the only things that can keep us alive."

Her eyes hardened as again she went into the pattern of behavior Mina had pointed out.  "You will not speak of this to anyone," she commanded, regal as any queen, on her knees and a scrub brush in her hand.

Mina almost smirked.  "Who's to tell?  Most of them know, anyway."  She nodded her head to indicate the other pirates.

"They – they know?"

"Had to."  Mina nodded.  "'s bad luck to being a woman aboard," she intoned, doing a fine mimicry of the second mate.  "But they had to, seeing's how I'm the captain's daughter."

Elizabeth looked away, seeking out the form of her husband.  He was standing at the railing, eyes closed as the breeze played with his hair, a look on his face so peaceful she had not even realized how tense he had been before.

Mina followed her gaze.  "You married a pirate, Elizabeth.  It's time to start learning to be a pirate's wife."

"And is that the future you wish for yourself?"  Her voice was clipped and short.  She did not look at Mina, or else she might have seen how much such a simple comment stung.

"Miss Elizabeth," she sighed, "the future I wish for myself is the most private of my heart's desires.  I know it will never come to pass and thus do not worsen the situation by speaking it out loud."

Elizabeth gave her a sidelong glance, partly because Mina had addressed her properly.  "I used to think the same thing, that I would never have Will."

Mina shook her head.  "Will never wanted anyone else.  I can tell, the way he looks at you.  He can't ever have looked at another woman like that."  Her eyes were shadowed, a subtlety again looked over by her companion.

"Of course he didn't.  We've been in love since the day we met."  Her smile was just shy of being pure, owing to her opinion of her present company.  "Why?  Haven't _you_ ever met someone and fallen in love right then?"

She looked thoughtful.  "I was too young then to know what love was, but when I look back on it . . . I've loved him ever since I knew the meaning of the word.  Him . . . and only him.  But it's not to be," she said, shaking herself out of her reverie.

Elizabeth laughed.  "How can you say that?  If your heart is pure –"

"And what of his?" Mina cut in, harshly to disguise the tears threatening to form.  "If his is anything but, what sort of chance would I have with him?"

She wrinkled her nose.  "Then you need to find someone else."

Mina gave her a look.

"What?"

"Well, of _course it sounds easy when you __say it."_

"Yes . . ."

Mina sighed.  "Never mind.  Get back to work."

Elizabeth was left alone and miffed with a bucket and brush, casting a glance at the darkening sky before begrudgingly doing as ordered.

* * * * *

At first no one noticed anything was wrong.  The captain was in his cabin, as usual when Will was out on deck, and Mina had her head bent over her rope making.  Jack had his eye on her from his position at the railing – he rarely ever looked away – and so he was the sole one to see her head snap up, eyes unfocused as if seeing something invisible to everyone else.  He bit his tongue as she cast the rope aside and got to her feet, wavering more than the motion of the ship would bring upon her.

"Mina?" Jack asked hesitantly, causing Will to turn around.

"It's coming."  Her voice was breathless and hollow, almost otherworldly, a tone Jack had heard once before when she was still quite young.  Mina was having a vision and he knew from the lone experience that nothing could shake her out of it until it was over.

"What's coming, Mina?"  He kept his voice light, stilling Will with a hand on his arm.

"It's coming, but it's not time."  Her head tilted as if the thing she was seeing were rising higher in the air and she began to walk toward it – toward Will and Jack.

Jack sucked in a quick breath.  "Listen to me, mate," he said in a low voice.  "She's not going to stop until the vision passes."

"You mean she's going –"

"Over the edge, yes.  And we need to stop her."

Will swallowed hard.  "Does she – does she do this often?"

"Only then the spirit moves her."  Jack's smirk was tense.

"It's coming."  Her voice was getting louder and she paused a moment, cocking her head as if confused.  "It's too early.  It can't happen now."

"Steady," Jack muttered to Will as she began walking again, this time with the attention of about a third of the crew.

"No!"  It was a scream as, just short of them, Mina reeled backward as if struck by something.  Jack caught her to steady her, gathering her in his arms just as a horrible shout came from the captain's cabin.

Jack ignored it, knowing how disoriented she had been the last time.  "Mina.  Mina, darling, it's me, Jack.  Mina, you're on the _Redemption_ with your father and me and Will and you just had a vision –"

"Jack."

He cupped her cheek in his hand, gently turning her face upward.  "Yes?"

Her chest was heaving.  "It's bad, it's going to be real bad.  Jack – Will –" She turned to look at him.  "Will, I need to tell you, I –"

"Get your hands off her!" the captain roared, face contorted with fury and pain as he tore his daughter away from Jack.  "Bind them to the mast!  Get me a whip!"

"Father –"

"Willemina."  His voice was a growl, his eyes only slits.  "Now is not the time."

"No!"  Elizabeth started forward but Mina, using what strength she had, caught her across the stomach and both girls tumbled to the deck.  "No – Will!"

"Hush," Mina said through a clenched jaw, struggling to pin Elizabeth's hands together.  "It's not him – it's Jack, he wouldn't hurt Will, not after that.  Elizabeth, listen to me."  Finally catching both wrists in one hand, Mina caught her chin and forced her gaze away from her husband.  "It's not Will.  And we're going to do everything we can to make sure it will never _be_ Will, do you understand me?"

Seeing something in the other young woman's eyes, Elizabeth nodded haltingly.  Mina only closed her eyes as the crack of the whip rent the air.

* * * * *

Commodore Norrington straightened up from the map he was going over when the governor entered the room.  "Good day, sir."

"Good day," Elizabeth's father replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The commodore frowned slightly. "Are you . . . all right?"

"Eh."  He waved a hand.  "I just had a funny dream last night."

"Dream, sir?"

The governor shrugged, going around the table to look at the map the right way on.  "Yes, it was very strange.  There was a girl . . . a girl with short hair, dressed in pirate's clothes, no less, telling me . . ." His finger traced a route on the parchment.  "Telling me that she was with Will and Elizabeth."  The finger slowed, pausing a moment before it lifted, breaking the spell.  "It's because I miss them, I suppose," he said, wistfully turning his eyes toward the window.

The commodore licked his lips.  "We _will find them, sir.  I promise you."  _But only a fool would go west; we will be searching in a more southerly course._  His eyebrow rose as he projected the course the governor had outlined.  There was nothing out there even worth _thinking_ about looking into._

Nodding curtly, the governor's lips attempted a tight smile.  "Good.  I'll leave you to your work."  Without a backward glance, he was gone as swiftly as he had come.

The commodore sighed, opening a desk drawer and extracting a few instruments.  He was going to find Elizabeth, and quickly, just to prove to her father that he was not counting on the wrong man.  Tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, he began to plot the course.


	10. Chapter Ten

Jack moaned slightly.  "Mina, love, I don't think your father likes me very much."

She gritted her teeth, casting a wary glance to the sky as she gently mopped up his back.  "Hate to say this, Jack, but you're the least of my worries right now."

"That's nice; a man always likes to hear he's loved."  He sucked in a quick breath through clenched teeth.  "May I inquire as to what's more important?"

The ship pitched wildly as it crested an unusually big wave.  "You might, but it's not the opportune moment," Mina answered quickly, dropping the cloth she had been using and almost skidding away across the deck to Elizabeth, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet.

"Hey!"  The young woman protested.  "What's all this about?"

"Waterspout!"  The call came from the crow's nest.

Mina shrugged, gesturing upward.  "That.  Now come on!"

"What?"  Digging in her heels, Elizabeth gestured wildly with her free hand.  "Will!"

"He's not about to get washed overboard when chained to the mast, Elizabeth," Mina grunted, giving her hand a yank.  "And he'd appreciate it if that didn't happen to you, either."

Slightly shocked at Mina's candid manner, Elizabeth barely even protested as Mina shoved her into her cabin and locked her inside.  From his perch, Jack the monkey chattered at her reproachfully as Elizabeth picked herself up off the floor and tried the door.  Outside, Mina tore a thin strip off the hem of her already frayed shirt and tied the key around her neck.

"Get in your cabin!" Smithy barked, grabbing her shoulders as his booted feet slid on the wet deck.

"You can either waste time telling me what to do or use it wisely in saving yourself," she shot back, shoving his hands away and ducking under his arm, glad she was barefoot for the little purchase it gave her.

"What's going on?" Will yelled over the rush of the sudden wind, trying to crane his neck around well enough to see her.

"You're staying put, that's what!" Mina shouted back.

Jack winced audibly.  "And with all this lovely saltwater rushing over the rails, mate, it's bound to be a wonderful time."

Mina shoved the hair out of her eyes, damp from both the waves and the rain that had started to fall in sheets, looking up to where men struggled to lower the sails and grabbing on to one of Jack's chains as the ship gave another lurch.  "I don't know if I could find something to put over your back."  It was crisscrossed with fresh wounds; Bootstrap had not been in a good mood whatsoever.

"It would rub," he muttered, closing his eyes, glad she was not able to look him full in the face and see the pain therein.  "Like it's doing now."  In the captain's hurry, Jack had not been stripped to the waist.

Mina shook her head to get the water out of her eyes.  "Don't take this the wrong way," she muttered before she literally began tearing his shirt off him, the wet material resisting.

"I won't, love," he promised as a section gave way and she ended up banging her elbow on the mast, cursing loudly.  "Though you might want some practice in disrobing a man without hurting yourself."

"Har, har," she muttered, tossing the rag aside and watching it fly away in the wind.  The next tilt of the ship sent her half tumbling into Jack and she caught herself on his chains slightly before grabbing for the mast.

He turned his head to look at her slightly under his arm.  "You're not going to hold on very well there love."

Her mouth tightened into a grim line.  "I don't want to hurt you."

Locking his eyes on hers, he replied, just barely loud enough for her to hear, "It would hurt me more if you let go."

Frozen for a moment by the intensity of his gaze, she nodded once, noting how loosely he was bound to the mast.  Gripping the chain near his right hand with her left, she ducked under it and fit herself between him and the mast, keeping a grip on the metal and – after only a slight hesitation – allowing herself to rest her head on his shoulder as he leaned slightly into her to protect her from the storm around them.

The _Redemption rode out the storm, shedding crewmen left and right as she had been caught unprepared._

* * * * *

The sun rose over an ocean as smooth as glass, shining innocently down on the ship as she rocked comfortingly on its surface.  The only evidence of the storm that had ripped through the night before was an immaculately clean deck, free from any and all debris, and the three figures hanging limply from their bonds to the mast.

Jack felt as though he barely had the strength to raise his head.  He licked his parched lips with a tongue drier still once they had tasted the salt encrusted there.  "Mina . . ."

She stirred slightly, moaning as she opened her eyes.  Her own lips were cracked and dry, the soft skin of her cheeks raked with the same salt crystals that glittered in her eyelashes.  Carefully she disentangled herself from Jack and the chains, setting foot on the open deck only to have her legs buckle as she fell to her knees.  Not overly deterred, she reached into the neck of her shirt and felt an overwhelming desire to curse, had she had enough spit to unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth.  Not only were her beads gone, but the key to her cabin.

Mina took a deep breath, eyes roving almost vacantly over the deck for some sort of inspiration, but it was wiped clean.  The only things to break the monotony of boards and sea were the sails, tucked up neatly on the spars, and occasional length of rope dangling from above.

A flicker of an idea crossed her face as she caught sight of a rope hanging rather randomly near her cabin, obviously having been placed their by the will of the winds.  What was more, this rope had a large knot on the end, one that was still heavy with seawater.  Getting to her feet, Mina willed herself over.

Elizabeth had fallen asleep only after the storm had calmed down and thus awoke with the crashing of the knot through the glass on the door.  Jack the monkey had been curled around her neck but went screeching away into a corner when she sat up and dislodged him.  "What are you doing?" she demanded sharply, hands going to her hair and smoothing her clothes to make herself as presentable as she possibly could.

The pirate lass made no response, merely reaching into her waistband for one of the many pins secured there.  Hiding her shock that there was still a decent selection, Mina reached through the now-broken window and proceeded to pick the lock merely by feel.

"And what happened to the key?" Elizabeth asked, raising an eyebrow, though her composure was slightly shaken when the door opened.  "You're – you're bleeding!"

Indeed, there were a few small cuts on her cheeks, and a flying piece of something had gouged into her right shoulder, though she was numb to the pain.  "Need to get them down," she managed, wincing at the sandpapery sound that was her voice.

Almost fearfully, Elizabeth turned her eyes toward the two still held to the mast.  They hung limply, though she could not see Will very well from her position.  "Do you have a key for that?"

In response she was handed a pin.

"Hmm.  Very well."  Without a backward glance, she went to Will and got to work.

* * * * *

With the final _click_, Mina gently caught Jack and helped him stagger back a few paces before they both sank to the deck, him turning painfully over and pillowing his head on her stomach, both of them breathing hard.  His hand sought out hers and he gently brushed his fingertips against her palm.  "Every day you remind me," he said softly.

Her eyes were closed against the glare of the sun.  "Remind you what?"

He smiled slightly, but, had she been looking, his head was turned the wrong way for her to see.  "Why I promised I'd come back for you."

She was silent.

"What is it, Mina?"  Jack levered himself up on his elbows to look at her.  "I love you."

She took a deep breath, eyes still closed to hide the emerging tears.  "I wish I could believe you."

It took him a moment to understand.  "What?"

Mina opened her eyes and sat up.  "You're a pirate, Jack.  Annemaria, Giselle . . . do you want me to go on?"

"Willemina, wait."  He grabbed her wrist.  "You don't understand! I –"

"Stop."  She gently disentangled his fingers.  "You're right, I don't.  But I don't want to hear this, either.  Jack . . ." Slowly she shook her head.

Elizabeth stood above them, casting them both into shadow.  "Water?" she asked, holding up a jar.

Taking it, Mina drank deeply before wiping her mouth on her sleeve and passing the vessel to Jack without looking at him, instead going to inspect the damage done to her father's ship.

Elizabeth followed Jack's gaze.  "She loves you," she said bluntly.

He pursed his lips.

"Come on, admit it: you see it, too."

"I thought I saw it."  Taking another long drink he gave her back the empty jar.  "Next time, make it rum."  Then he, too, stood, going to bow where Mina had gone to the stern, assessing exactly how they were going to get out of this mess.


	11. Chapter Eleven

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Mina took a deep breath.  "It's not exactly easy to say."

Will tried to be patient.  "Look, no one else is listening.  Can't you tell me?"  The two of them were at the bow of the ship, Mina sitting on the railing, Will leaning against it.  Jack was manning the helm and Elizabeth, looking put out, was doing her best to avoid his forced conversation.

She nodded, gathering her thoughts.  "There was a curse placed on the family years ago.  The time doesn't matter, but the fact that it's a multiple of fifty years back does."

He was already lost.

Mina threw up her hands.  "Every fifty years a spirit comes to our family to take the eldest male straight out of this life and into the burning pits of Hell for the rest of eternity, which is a bloody long time if you ask me."

Will blinked.  "Fif- fifty years?"

She was ignoring him.  "Father had a plan: after locating the Isle de Meurta and stealing a piece of gold, thus rendering himself immortal and hopefully immune to the curse.  The problem is, fifty years ago there was no male to be taken; the next in line was born three years later.  Part of the whole slew of the curse is that at least one man must be taken every hundred years or else the entire family'll go.  Now, who knows how many of us that would be, but by stealing you away and making you the unwilling sacrifice, he'd be safe to pirate for another however long."

Will's mind was racing.  They had Jack; if he could get to Isle de Meurta before the fifty years were truly up, then the burden would fall on some half brother he didn't know he had running around somewhere.  And if there were no half brother?  

"That's why you need me," Mina said softly.  "It's the only way to guarantee the rest of your life."

His eyes hardened.  "I'm not going to depend on someone I don't fully trust."

"If you have a better idea, by all means, let me know.  I realize you've had your own experience with curses, but I believe I have a bit more knowledge in casting them - and casting them aside."  She raised an eyebrow.  "So.  What's our plan?"

The wheels were having a hard time getting started in his head but they finally began turning.  "Well, you can do your hocus=pocus from anywhere, right?"

"Except inside a church or on holy ground, pretty much, yes."

"So you're not going to have problems on Isle de Meurta."

Mina gave him a look he could not decipher.  "What are you thinking?"

"That I want backup.  We need to get to Tortuga, get a full crew, get you stalked up on whatever magic . . . things . . . you might need, and get to that island."  He shoved his hair off his forehead.  "Why do you care, anyway?  It's not your life!"

She smiled wryly.  "Actually, it is.  As long as it's not yours, it's mine."

His smile was not so kind.  "It won't be mine; I grantee it."

Mina shrugged, leaning back on her hands, eyes closed as she turned her face toward the stern, into the wind.  "Then it's a good thing I've made peace with myself, don't you think?"

When she opened her eyes, he was gone.

* * * * *

Elizabeth was beyond shocked.  "Tortuga?  Isle de Meurta?  Will, what has gotten into you?"

"The desire to live?" he said, this time with a wry smile that she tried not to compare to Mina's.  "It's the only way, darling."

The sound of a throat clearing behind him made them turn.  Mina looked slightly sick.  "It's not the only way now, but we're not exactly covered until the time comes."

"What?"

"Come with me."

Thoroughly puzzled, Will followed her.

Jack did not look up as they entered the captain's cabin, pushing aside a door that had been through more than what the waterspout had in its power.  "It's hard to say," he muttered, reaching for a cloth and dipping it in cool water.

"If you'd kindly take the helm again, I'd appreciate it."  Mina said it lightly, though there was an obvious tension between her and the man of whom she was requesting this.  Without meeting her eyes, the pirate slipped out past them.

Will sucked in a quick breath, eyes on the pale figure in the bed.  "That's not –"

"Our father."  She nodded.  "The bastard survived."

He stilled himself from making a comment as to how she herself was, by definition, a bastard.  "Then I don't need to worry.  He hangs in there until the . . . spirit thing comes . . . and them I'm home free."

"What happens if you count on that and he dies before that day ever arrives?"  Her voice was sharp.

Will paused a moment.  "But – that'd just be me; why should you care?"

"Because I can tell how much you mean to Elizabeth and I can't stand to see her lose you like I lost – like I lost someone else."  She was avoiding his gaze, though he felt he knew exactly who she was talking about and how she may have lost him.  "She deserves better than that, Will.  I like to think that most people do."

"So you _do care about people other than yourself."  He leaned against the wall by the bunk, emphasizing his height and position over her._

"You ever questioned that?"  Her eyes turned upward to seek his.  "There's one man for whom I'd die, even if he wouldn't do the same for me.  That part doesn't matter; all that matters is that he lives, even though it hurts me more than anything to know that I am nothing more than a spectator in an event I could never join."

He raised an eyebrow at the passion evident in her voice and posture but did not interrupt.

"I never had him.  Elizabeth has you; she calls you her own and you call her yours.  I can't imagine the pain of losing something you've actually had.  Maybe I will never taste honey, but I don't have a memory to haunt me."

"Jack loves you."  Will could not help but break in.  "Are you blind?  Look at the way he looks at you!"

"Look at his life!" she countered swiftly and bitterly.  "He 'loves' me because I'm convenient.  He's 'loved' others because they were convenient, and he'll 'love' still more.  He's a pirate, Will, through and through.  May Elizabeth keep you from such a fate."

He blinked.  "Look, you're obviously having a hard day and you're not in a mood to listen to reason."

"Reason?  I can't even define the term."

"Would you stop that already!"

"Stop what?"

"Being so bitter, so cynical.  Can't you look at storm and see a rainbow coming?"

Mina stood, leaving their father and bringing her face close to Will's.  "I've been through many storms in my life.  After you've been hit by lightening so many times, the rainbows don't seem so wonderful anymore."

This time, she was the one to walk out on him.

* * * * *

"Tortuga."  Jack snorted to himself.  "Wonderful.  Bloody wonderful."  So Mina could see him with multiple women he had seen before, see him slapped by most and flirted with by those who had not heard of his . . . reputation.  Exactly what he needed right now.

"You're not the only cheery one aboard," Elizabeth called from the main deck, leaning on the railing.  "I can think of half a dozen things I would rather be doing."

"And how many involve Master William, love?" Jack called back, managing his usual jovial tone.

"Captain Sparrow."  She straightened, giving him one of her piercing looks.  "I don't believe that was appropriate."

He considered this a moment.  "Probably wasn't.  Oh, well.  Can't be perfect all the time."

Elizabeth turned back to the gray sea, staring out at the whitecaps.  "_Pirates."_

A smile twitched its way onto his lips.  "_Women."_

* * * * *

There was one person on board who had not told her they were going to Tortuga and was not taking them there, and it was bad luck that put her in the same place with Elizabeth at the same time.  "You," she spat.  "I suppose you're enjoying this."

"Your company and excellent conversation?"  Mina was not in the best of moods and her tone was clipped.

"This whole bloody trip!  Dressing like a lad, and acting like one, too, and pulling my husband deeper into whatever web you're weaving while you take Jack Sparrow on the side."

She was expecting a verbal response, some sort of witticism that would be worthy of the term repartee, but none came.  With something in her eyes that looked suspiciously like tears, Mina retreated into her cabin, closing her damaged door behind her.

* * * * *

Jack sighed.  "You sure about this, mate?"

"Sure about this?"  Will shook his head.  "I'm not sure I'm sure of anything anymore."

"That's comforting."  The pirate tiredly rubbed a hand over his face.  "I was beginning to think I was the only one."

The ship sailed on.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Elizabeth looked distinctly uncomfortable as they walked through the streets of Tortuga.  "Why couldn't I have stayed back on the ship with Will?" she hissed.

"'s all about appearances, love," Jack said jovially, taking his arm from around her to have a swig from his bottle, his normal mixture of water and rum, more water than rum.  He had been around his father long enough to know how to act drunk.

"Just relax," Mina said, looking rather tense herself, though this was due to the fact that the pirate still had an arm snugly around her waist.  "And if anyone approaches you in a way you don't like, just let me know."

"Oh, he's standing right next to me."

Mina laughed.  "That's the spirit, love," she said, mocking Jack.

"You watch out," he warned her.

"Or you'll what?"

Releasing Elizabeth completely, Jack wrapped his arms – rum bottle and all – around her, bending her back slightly in a long kiss as he made a show of running his hands down her sides.  When he realized her she brought up a hand, but he caught her wrist before she could touch him.  "'s all about appearances, love," he said, this time softly.  Turning away he caught Elizabeth and propelled her into a nearby bar.

Fixing the back of his head with a piercing look, Mina followed them in.

* * * * *

After pondering Jack's request a moment, the bartender nodded.  "Aye, she's here; back room on the left, if you want to risk it."

"Thanks, mate."  Jack tossed him a coin.  "You remember Annemaria, don't you?" he asked Elizabeth as he steered her through the masses of people, snagging a stein of beer from a table as they passed.

"Annemaria?"  She blinked.  "You still owe her a ship, Captain Sparrow!"

"Aye, that I do," he said grimly.  "That I do."

* * * * *

Mina was trying to follow them when a girl in a very low-cut, tight dress stepped in front of her.  "Excuse me, but I saw you out there with Jack Sparrow."

She rolled her eyes.  "Yes, I'm sure you did.  Now, if you would just step aside –"

The other woman shook her head sadly, tortured curls swinging.  "My dear, I need to warn you."

Although this seemed rather strange, Mina thought it might merit a listen.  "About what?"

A wry smile was her first answer.  "Come on, I'll buy you a drink."

* * * * *

Annemaria looked up, the brim of her hat casting a shadow across her eyes.  "Jack Sparrow.  You sure know how to clear out a room."

"I need a crew," he said without preamble.

"You no longer have my ship."  She inspected her fingernails.  "Though I see you've managed to get _her_ back.  Where's the whelp?"

"The whereabouts of her husband is no matter of yours."  Jack motioned for Elizabeth to take an empty chair nearby.  "I have a ship.  I need a crew."

Annemaria laughed derisively, crossing her arms.  "You owe me a ship, Sparrow."

Jack raised an eyebrow.  "You'll have all the treasure mine can carry."

The pirate woman took her feet off the table and sat up.  "I'm listening."

* * * * *

Giselle laughed sadly.  At least, that was how she had introduced herself.  "Ah, Jack Sparrow," she said, taking a gulp from her mug.  "Here's the deal with 'im: that 'un'll buy you dinner, give you a kiss or two to make you think he's real, a few drinks . . . and when you follow him to his room, he'll pay you just enough to keep you quiet and make you tell everyone it happened."

Mina blinked.  Her tankard was missing only a cursory sip.  "Excuse me?"

It seemed that this was not Giselle's first drink of the evening as she swayed slightly on her stool, catching the eye of a card player nearby.  Twinkling her fingers at him, she turned back to Mina.  "That man is bad news for every one of us he tricked."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"Oh, Giselle, not another one," another woman said, joining them.  "You poor dear.  Jack Sparrow?"

"Jack Sparrow," Giselle said, nodding.  "Rachel's had the same thing," she explained to Mina.

"Steal a few kisses, that one will," Rachel said, pricking her finger with a needle and using the drops of blood to color her cheeks.  "And won't take what you're really offerin', not even if you offer it for free."

* * * * *

Annemaria looked pensive.  "So there's another curse, but this one won't have anything to do with us."

"I just need to get out to that island, let the lass do a bit of magic, and hope William doesn't drop dead."

She pondered this.  "I can get you a few men."

Jack raised an eyebrow; this sounded promising.  "Gibbs?"

"No."  Her head was shaking as she bit at her thumbnail. "Gone straight again.  Surprised they let him; we all were, but Norrington's dumber than even we give him credit for.  No offense," she added as an afterthought.

"None taken," Elizabeth said primly, eyes shifting nervously to the doorway.  Annemaria and Jack were into negotiating the pay when she frowned.  "Captain Sparrow?"

Jack sighed.  "What?"

She raised a hand to point.  "Who's that with Mina?"

Annemaria looked and immediately broke into laughter.  "Bad news, cap'n," she crowed.  "You don't want Rachel and Giselle gettin' a hold of them before they can even approach you."

Jack's expression was hard to read.

* * * * *

Giselle wiped her mouth on her arm.  "Let me word it this way, dear, from one sister to another: there's no money to be earned from Jack Sparrow."

"Aye," Rachel said sadly.  "As soon as you try more than an innocent little kiss, he's pushing money into your hand and locking the door before you can come in."

"We don't think he's ever been made a man," Giselle whispered loudly, leaning her elbows on the table and this time giving the card played a good glimpse down her dress.  "Perhaps he can't even, shall we say, wield his sword."

Rachel nodded sagely.  "But the worst part, love – he'll even tell you why."

"Oh, it's so sweet."  Giselle batted her eyes, just short of rolling them, making her point.

"Why, then?" Mina asked, consciously not looking into the room when Jack had gone.

Rachel scooted her chair closer in a mock show of making them confidantes.  "Well, here's the tale he'll tell: there's a lass back in England with hair of fire and eyes that challenge the sea's green.  He loves her, he says, and as soon as he wins himself his treasure, he's going back to win her heart."

"He's being true to her," Giselle cut in.  "Says he'll let everyone else think what they want – fact, he'd rather they think like they do now – but" – here she inserted a snort of laughter – "he's waiting for her!  Can you believe it?"

"Must be some lass," her companion agreed.

Mina was hardly breathing.  "And he's – he's done it . . . to all of you?"

"Rather, he's _not_ done it to any of us," Rachel corrected.  "All because of his little _Willemina_."  She sneered the name, taking Giselle's mug and draining it.

Giselle began to pout.  "Are you going to drink that?" she asked, tossing her curls over her shoulders.

"Go ahead."  Mina absently shoved her beer toward the other woman.

* * * * *

Annemaria snorted.  "Looks shocked, doesn't she?  Honestly, don't they ever learn that they can't trust men?"

"She already thought that," Jack said grimly.  "I'm just hoping they change her mind."

Elizabeth looked completely confused.  "Would someone explain to me what's going on?" she asked, exasperated.

* * * * *

Mina nodded, standing.  "Thank you for telling me," she said, still unsure of whether or not she should be forcing the smile.

"Any time," Giselle said sympathetically.

"Hey, we didn't get your name," Rachel said.

Mina paused.  "Willemina Turner of England."

They were both so shocked that, long after she had walked away, Giselle had still not noticed that she was dripping beer down her front.

* * * * *

"She's going to slap you," Annemaria observed.

Jack was silent as he watched Mina come over.

"You know when they find out, they all want to slap you."

Still silence.

"Look at those flashing eyes!  Hope your reflexes are good."

A look from him stilled her, a look she had not seen before.

Mina stopped right in front of him.  When she neither moved nor said anything, he stood up.  "Mina."  He said it softly so that Annemaria would not hear.

Gently, almost hesitantly, she reached out and brushed her fingers across his cheek.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

He took her hand and kissed her palm.  "Would you have believed me?"

Ever so slowly her head began to shake.  "I never would have let myself believe."

"That's why."  He bent his head so their foreheads touched.  "Willemina Turner, you have the attention of everyone in this fine establishment.  I think it an opportune moment."

"I think I already let too many slip by," she said, catching him by surprise as she kissed him hungrily.

As soon as she got her eyes back in, Annemaria leaned around the couple and caught Elizabeth's eye.  "Is her name Willemina?" she asked.

Elizabeth blinked.  "Yes.  Why?  How did you know?"

The pirate raised an eyebrow.  "The same way that everyone in here now knows who she is."

Another "lady of the evening" was heard to scoff, "_That's_ Willemina?  I don't believe it!"

"He could have done _much_ better," her friend agreed, nodding sagely.

Jack was too busy to notice.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Sighing, Elizabeth folded her arms over her stomach, looking out at the port of Tortuga.  "I thought we were sailing at dawn," she called over her shoulder.

Will laughed.  "My dear, it's not even midnight."

She turned enough to fix him with a look.  After giving Annemaria enough coins to have her take Elizabeth back to the ship, he had seized Mina's hand and the two of them had disappeared, in his words, "for a talk long overdue."

He grinned, sliding his arms around her and kissing her neck.  "Do you know what, Elizabeth?"

"Probably more than you think," she said slyly, turning around in his embrace and slipping her arms around his neck.

Will raised an eyebrow.  "Tomorrow night this place will be crawling with pirates.  Tonight, however, I see only one person with me on this deck."

She cocked her head, smiling and pretending not to understand.  "You can count to one, Mister Turner.  I believe _I_ was the one underestimating _you_."

Instead of a reply, Will pulled her closer and kissed her, effectively ending that – or any other – conversation for the rest of the night.

* * * * *

Mina ran ahead of Jack, kicking off her boots and splashing through the shallows before starting to jump from rock to rock out to sea.  "I see you haven't grown up at all," he muttered fondly, not bothering to take anything off as he had a longer stride.

"And you?"  She turned, smiling slightly but completely radiant.  "Have you grown up, Jack Sparrow?"

He hopped forward another step, balancing on two rocks in front of her as he took her hands.  "Do you want me to grow up?"

She leaned her head forward until their foreheads touched.  "I want you be to you."

He wrinkled his nose.  "'s a lot to ask, love."

"Oh, Jack."  Mina laughed it softly, kissing him sweetly before pulling away, heading back to shore.  "I still don't believe it," she said when she heard him splash in a small wave behind her.

Jack slipped his arms around her waist, resting his head against hers.  "I never really loved Meredith," he said after a pause.

"What?"

"Meredith.  I never really loved her."

Mina turned, dropping to sit on the sand as he positioned himself beside her.  "You never loved her?  Jack you spent the better part – no, over a year, trying to win her favor!"

"I know.  And I was a fool."

Her mouth twitched.  "That _is my personal opinion, yes."_

Jack shrugged, looking out into the harbor.  "I needed her.  After running away that last time, I had nothing left."

"You've been a pickpocket as long as I've known you," she pointed out, though he had rarely spoken of the home she knew he had tried to leave many, many times.

He winced.  "Yes, I nicked those things from home and sold them for much less than they were worth."

"So, what, you needed her so you could go lifting her knickknacks from the mantelpiece?"

"Now, stop."  Jack lifted a hand to put a finger to her lips.  "I needed her to try to forget you."

Mina was silent.

"Honestly, love.  Look at it: you were barely more than a child, locked up in some abbey, and she . . . she was supposed to make me forget."  He shook his head.  "I couldn't have you, so I needed someone."

"Drown yourself in a woman's pleasures, is that is?"

"Mina."  He grabbed her chin.  "The sound of your voice insulting me is sweeter than anything she might have offered.  And believe me when I say she was a proper lady and didn't offer much."

She pulled out of his grasp, hugging her knees to her chest.  "Would you have taken it, had she offered?"

Jack closed his eyes, leaning back on his hand.  "The truth, love?  Yes.  Yes, I would have taken it, and regretted it the most the next time I saw you.  Actually," he continued, turning his face away, "I probably wouldn't've been able to face you again."

"Because of _course_ I would have known."

He ignored the fact that she tossed her head and rolled her eyes.  "I would have known, and that would have been more than enough."

She was silent a moment, gathering her thoughts.  "Jack?"

"Yes, love?"

"I . . . I tried to forget you, too."

He blinked.  "What's his name?  And address, too, I'd really hate shooting the wrong man, honestly isn't worth it . . ." Reaching out, he made as if to pinch her cheek.  "Smile, lass.  It's a joke, promise."

"I know, just . . ." She caught his hand.  "I almost did it."

Jack's eyebrows rose.  "I see . . ."

Mina laughed.  "Not _that, you idiot," she admonished, going to punch his shoulder and accepting his embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder.  "I almost took my oath the year I turned eighteen."_

"Oath?"  He pulled back so he could look her in the eye.  "You mean my Will almost became a nun?"

"Well, I obviously didn't think I was your Will at the time!"

"Huh."  He cocked his head.  "What stopped you, then?"

Mina took a deep breath, snuggling against him and wriggling her bare toes in the sand.  "The fact that it wouldn't ever make me forget you.  It would just mean that I couldn't really dream any more, because I'd be taking away the chance I never really thought I had."

Jack kissed her hair.  "Well, I didn't think I'd have a chance, either, not the way I'd messed things up."

"And so you wanted treasure."  She fixed him with an appraising look.  "Did you really think I could be won?"

He smiled with chagrin.  "No, I just thought you might need convincing that I was serious."

Mina laughed, really laughed, throwing her head back and getting tears in her eyes.  "Honestly, Jack, I think throwing two prostitutes at me was a bit more effective."

"Hey, I didn't arrange that," he protested, holding up his hands.  "Pure dumb luck, that."

"Good luck, you mean," she corrected, cupping his cheek in her hand.  "Very good luck."

"I'll say.  Now I've finally got a lass I don't have to lock _outside_ the room!"  He dove at her, kissing her roughly as he pinned her hands to the sand.

"Hey!" Mina protested, laughing, when he allowed her to breathe.  "I may be _your_ Willemina, but I'm still catholic, even if I'm not a nun."

"Ah, but you're a pirate," he pointed out, nuzzling her neck.

"A catholic pirate, then."

"_My_ catholic pirate."  He raised an eyebrow, beads swinging across his forehead at an obscure angle.

"Mmmm."  She closed her eyes.  "That seems to be a contradiction, if you think about it . . ."

"Then don't think about it, love."  He winked.  "Just take it as it comes."

"Oh, you!"

"What?"  He did a horrible impression of looking innocent.  "Is there a problem, love?"

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh.  "Yes, although he _does_ happen to be a good-looking one . . ."

Jack made a show of looking up and down the beach before deciding that, yes, _he_ must be the good-looking one, as there was no one else in sight.  "So does that excuse the problem, then?"

"_You_!" Mina cried, acting more exasperated than she really was as she shoved him over onto his back, crossing her arms on his chest and resting her chin on them.  "That depends."

"On what?"  He grinned, teeth flashing in the distant lights from the port.  "And I really pity you if you think keeping me like this is any sort of torture."

"Mmmm."  Turning her head to the side, her eyes closed again.  "Good, 'cause I'm about to fall asleep."

Jack shifted slightly so he could take her in his arms.  "Go right ahead, love," he whispered, smiling as he knew that, unlike in his dreams, she would still be there when he awoke.

* * * * *

"You really should get some sleep, sir," Norrington said respectfully.

The governor shook his head.  "I can't sleep, Commodore.  I keep being haunted by this dream . . . Elizabeth's in trouble."  He turned haunted eyes on the younger man.  "I fear I'll never see her again."

Swallowing, the commodore forced a smile.  "Now, that's no way to talk.  Our five fastest ships are out there, looking for the _Redemption_ at this moment.  A ship like that can't hide forever.  Besides," he said consolingly, "we're bound to catch word from the captain: who lead the mutiny, commandeered his crew, and if he has any inkling as to where they were headed.  Really, sir, there's no reason to fret.  If Elizabeth could survive the Pearl, then regular, mortal, and uncursed pirates can hardly present a problem."

Governor Swann seemed to think this over slowly before he nodded.  "And Will is with her.  He won't let anything happen to her."

"That's the tune you should be singing, sir," Norrington agreed heartily.  "Captain Torrington will surely attest to the fact that he refused to leave her side, no matter what the situation."

As the governor left, satisfied, Norrington turned back to his maps, wishing that he felt half as confident as he felt, praying that someone would find Torrington soon.

Many miles away, Torrington opened his for the first time since the storm, clear-headed and sure footed.


End file.
